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dianawinchester03 · 3 days

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Season 2, Episode 17 - Heart

Series Masterlist

Authors Note: Since this is a sad episode, I made some memes to lighten the mood <3

And I know, it’s been a while since my last update. I apologize and I truly hope you guys aren’t mad at me. I’ve been a little demotivated if I’m being honest (which is why I wrote my short story of Dean Smith) so I took a little break, read some books and other wonderful authors short stories and now I’m back! So I hope everyone enjoys🥰

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Third Person POV

San Francisco, California

“Here he is detectives” The coroner said to Sam and Y/N as she pulled the mutilated body out from the body drawer. Bite marks, scratches and claw marks coated his pale corpse. “That’s a pretty nasty bite” Sam commented in a low tone as he and y/n scanned the body. “Mm-hmm” The coroner hummed. “You know what bit him?” Y/N asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I haven’t quite determined that just yet” The coroner shrugged. Y/N scoffed, flashing the woman a coy smile, “Come on, doc. Off the record” She said in a persuasive tone. The female coroner blushed lightly, “Okay, way, wayy off record” She hesitated. “Sure, hun” Y/N said gently, smiling slyly at the woman. She took a deep breath before saying, “If i didn’t know better, I’d say the guy was attacked by a wolf”

Sam and Y/N shared a look at this, “But, unless I know that the zoo is missing one of their lobos. I’m going with a pitbull. I like my job” She flashed a wink at Y/N as she said this, a small smirk played on the hunters lips. “Yeah, we hear you” Sam chuckled, “One more thing, this guy. Was his heart missing?” Sam asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

The coroner raised her brows at Sam, “Yeah, how did you know that? I haven’t even finished my report” The coroner said in suspicion. “Lucky guess” Y/N assured her.

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“This lawyer guy’s the first heart-free corpse in town?” Dean asked as he and Y/N sat at the dining room table in her safe house, cleaning their guns. “First man” Y/N told him. “Over the past year several women have gone missing” Sam chimed in, pushing himself up from the couch to head over to the fridge, taking out a beer.

“Their bodies all washed up in the bay, too deteriorated to draw firm conclusions” He added as he walked over to the dining room table, snatching a chair before turning it around and straddling it. “But no hearts?” Dean asked, an excited look on his face. “No hearts?” Y/N shook her head as she wiped the gun and Sam popped open his beer.

“They were all hookers working at Hunter’s Point. Now cops are trying to keep things under wraps because they think that they’re looking for a serial killer” Y/N explained as she kicked her feet up on the table after resting down the last gun. “And the lunar cycle?” Dean queried. “Mmhmm” Sam hummed as he sipped his beer.

“Yeah, month after month, all the murders happened in the week leading up to the full moon” He confirmed. “Which is this week, right?” Dean questioned, “Hence the lawyer” Y/N shrugged, picking up her own beer which was residing on the table, sipping it. “Awesome” Dean grinned, snatching Y/N’s feet from the table before settling it on his lap.

Sam and Y/N shared a look due to his tone while Y/N tried to ignore the racing of her heart when Dean snatched her feet from the table. “Charming, could you be a bigger geek about this?” She scoffed as he reached into his duffel bag on the table to retrieve a case of silver bullets, “I’m sorry, princess. But what about a human by day, a fucking animal killing machine by moonlight don’t you understand?” Dean all but giggled as he opened the case.

“We haven’t seen one since we were kids” Dean muttered, the excitement clear in his tone. Sam and Y/N were both amused by this, “Okay, sparky, and you know what? After we kill it, we can go to Disneyland” Sam sassed, leaning just elbows on the back of the chair, speaking to Dean as if he were a child. Y/N snorted in amusement at this, almost coughing up some of her beer.

Dean rolled his eyes but ignored them, “You know what the best part about it is? We already know how to bring these suckers down” He smirked, holding up a silver bullet between his index finger and thumb. “One of these bad boys right to the heart” Sam and Y/N shook their heads at him as Y/N’s eyes traced his face.

When she realized she was staring a bit too hard, she cleared her throat and quickly looked away. “So, what’s our next move?” She asked, taking her feet down from Dean’s lap, “Talk to the girl who found the body” Sam answered, finishing his beer.

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The trio made their way to Madison’s apartment in hopes of getting answers to their case. “I don’t understand, i already gave my statement” Madison said, a bit of annoyance in her tone. “Right, yeah, well. We just need to verify a few things” Sam responded as they all entered her living room to see an unfamiliar man lounging on her couch.

“This is my neighbor, Glenn. Glenn, this is detective—” Madison introduced them, forgetting their names. “Landis.” Dean introduced himself using his alias. “Dante and Daniel” He added, patting Sam’s shoulder and then the small of Y/N’s back. She recoiled from the touch a little, clearing her throat. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it” Glenn said awkwardly, clearing his throat.

“Okay, thanks for the casserole” Madison said gratefully as Glenn made his way past her. “Mhm” Glenn blushed as he made his way to the door. “Oh, how thoughtful” Dean muttered, “Just call if you need anything” Glenn said to Madison with a small smile before leaving. “He’s sweet. He came over to check on me” Madison said to the trio with a smile.

“Have- have a seat” She offered them to take a seat at her dining room table. Y/N bit her lip slightly as she eyed the very attractive woman up and down, her eyes flickering over to Dean as she settled in a chair next to him. She noticed he was doing the same, inwardly rolling her eyes. “You must be pretty shaken up,” Sam said apologetically as he sat across from Madison.

“You were Nate Mulligan’s assistant, right?” He added, “For two years, yeah” Madison nodded, taking a deep breath. “So you knew all about him” Dean asked with a sly smirk, his eyes tracing Madison’s figure. Y/N noticed this, clenching her jaw as she unconsciously dug her nails into her thighs. “I probably knew about him more than he did,” Madison chuckled.

“Nate was— He was nice..” Madison trailed off, Y/N took note of this. “But?” She raised a brow as she questioned. “Nothing really, I…” Madison sighed, “He had a few scotches and started hitting on anyone in a five mile radius. You know the type” Madison flashed a small smile. Y/N’s eyes flickered over to Dean who had that charming panty dropping smile he always sported as Madison spoke.

“Oh trust me hun, I do” Y/N chuckled, shooting Dean a quick subtle glare before turning back to Madison. Dean’s brows furrowed at this as Sam held back a snicker of amusement, “Did uh…did he have any enemies?” Dean asked, “What do you mean? It sure looked like an animal attack” Madison asked confused.

“Oh, no. Yeah, we’re just covering all the bases. Anyone that might’ve had a beef with him? Former client, an ex?” Y/N chimed in, Sam noticed a look on Madison’s face. “What?” Sam asked, tilting his head. “Well, this is embarrassing but my ex-boyfriend, Kurt,” Madison said, rolling her eyes at the thought of him. “Kurt have a last name?” Dean asked.

“Mueller. After we broke up, he went kind of nuts. He’s….well, he’s kind of been stalking me” Madison’s gaze dropped to her hands, Y/N gave her a look of sympathy at this along with Sam. “He got it in his head that something was going on between Nate and I. He showed up at my office” She explained, “What happened?” Y/N asked. “Kurt got into it with Nate. Threw a punch before security grabbed him. I was lucky to keep my job”

“When was the last time you saw Kurt?” Dean asked. “A few nights ago. Actually, the night Nate died. We were all grabbing drinks at this bar and Kurt showed up” Madison explained, “And?” Y/N pried. “Nothing. Ky was like…like he was watching me. Then he was gone. To tell you the truth…he scares me” Madison responded in a low tone, her voice filled with sorrow and fear.

Y/N’s heart panged for the girl, a frown making it’s face to her face and the three hunters shared a look. “I’m sorry you’re going through this Madison, it must be so hard for you” Y/N spoke gently, reaching a hand over the table to rub Madison’s hands gently. “Thank you” Madison thanked the pair. Y/N flashed her a quick smile before withdrawing her hands, placing it in her lap.

“So, what do you guys think?” Dean asked as they all walked toward the Impala. “Stalker scumbag ex boyfriend. He hated the boss. And he was there that night” Sam agreed with the theory. “You think he’s our dog-faced boy?” Y/N asked. “Well, it’s a theory,” Sam shrugged as they approached the Impala. “We’ve had worse. I say we pay Kurt a visit” Dean suggested, opening the back door for Y/N before opening his.

Her heart leapt, as per usual, at the gesture as she settled into her seat. Shutting the door inwards simultaneously with the boys. “Lead the way, charming” Y/N prompted, with that, Dean peeled out of the sidewalk. Heading towards Kurt’s apartment complex, thanks to the address given to them by Madison.

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After picking the lock to Kurt's door, the trio made their way into the apartment. Immediately getting to work, Sam began going through his bookcase while Y/N took up opening the drawer and Dean, obviously, rummaging through the kitchen. “Anything?” Y/N asked, closing a drawer after finding nothing.

“Ahh, nothing but leftovers and a six pack” Dean responded, shutting the fridge. “Check the freezer” Sam suggested. “Maybe there’s some human hearts behind the Häagen-Dazs or something” He muttered, earning a snort of amusement from Y/N.

A squeaking in the distance caught their ear, drawing their attention to the veranda. Y/N paced over to it instantly, pulling the curtain aside before pushing the sliding glass door aside. The wind of the cold night hit her cheeks. She scanned her surroundings before leaning over the edge.

Her eyes widening when she notices claw marks going down the side of the building. “Fellas, come here” Y/N called out to the boys. “What?” Sam asked as he and his brother both entered the balcony. “Check it out” She stated, pointing to the claw marks. The Winchesters leaned over simultaneously besides Y/N, all three sharing a knowing look.

They were now back inside of Kurt’s apartment, rifling through papers when a gunshot in the distance raised all alarms in their heads. Instantly bolting into action, all running out on their toes out of the building and towards the gunshot.

Rushing into the alley, the trio scanned the area before following the sound of rushed footsteps. “This way!” Sam exclaimed in a hushed tone, the other two trailing behind him as he ran down the alley.

They made it behind the building, in an alleyway, near a dumpster to see the mauled body of a cop. His organs hanging out and his heart, most likely, missing. Y/N reupholstered her gun, along with the boys.

“Oh my god” She breathed out in a whisper, shining her flashlight down on the cop’s mutilated form. “Damn, this ain’t good. Poor bastard.” Dean muttered, placing an arm against the brick wall as he lowered his head momentarily in what seemed to be a form of respect to the fallen cop.

Y/N did the same, placing a hand against her mouth. “I’ll call 911.” Sam swallowed harshly as he fished his phone out of his pocket, scanning his surroundings. “I’d say Kurt’s looking more and more like our Cujo” Dean quipped, crouching down besides Y/N. “Guys, if he’s out here. We better check on Madison.” Sam suggested.

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Sam was now knocking on Madison’s door, when suddenly the door across the hall opened up, revealing Glenn. “What’s going on?” He asked curiously. Y/N raised a brow at the nosey man, “Police business, Glenn” Dean stated in a gruff tone. Madison’s door then opened.

“What is it?” Madison asked, pulling a robe over her shoulders. Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes flickering over to Glenn, who was still standing by his door. “Well, maybe we should talk privately,” She suggested.

“Has Kurt been here?” Y/N asked Madison as she poured her a cup of coffee, “Not exactly” Madison responded, moving over to pour Sam and Dean some coffee. “What exactly does ‘not exactly’ mean?” Dean chuckled. “Well, he was outside last night. Just…looking. Just looking at me” Madison sighed. This raised their concerns, “Has he done something?” Madison asked, confused.

“We’re not really sure” Sam sighed, “It’s probably nothing. But, we just don’t wanna take any chances ” Dean chimed in, a bit too eagerly. Y/N turned her attention to Dean with a raised brow as she sipped the coffee. “Infact, one of us should probably stay here with you, just in case he stops by” Dean suggested, earning an eye roll from Y/N and Sam.

There it is.

“Where does he work?” Sam asked, “He owns a body shop,” Madison told them. “You mind grabbing that address for us, hun?” Y/N smiled coyly at Madison, “Thanks” Sam muttered as Madison nodded and left the room. Dean and Y/N’s eyes trailed Madison as Sam looked between the two. “Alright, go you two. I’ll stay” Y/N suggested.

“Forget that. You guys go after the creepy ex. I’m gonna hang here with the hot chick” Dean protested in a skittish tone. Y/N gritted her teeth at him while Sam bit back a laugh, “Dude, why do you always get to hang out with the girls?!” She exclaimed while keeping her voice at bay.

“Because I’m older” Dean quipped cheekily, raising his mug to his lips. Y/N’s left eye twitched while Sam scoffed, leaning against the counter, watching the scene unfold as he sipped his own coffee. “No, fuck that. We settle this the old fashion way” She protested, placing her mug down besides Sam, raising up her right fist.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Dean smiled cheekily, setting down his own mug. “I hate you” Y/N muttered, glaring at him, causing him to chuckle before he extended his right fist. Y/N shot Sam a quick look, causing him to shrug his shoulders before turning back to Dean.

They banged their fists against their palms three times, both with their game faces on. Y/N hit rock as Dean hit scissors. Dean scoffed as Sam chuckled, “Dean, always with the scissors” Sam muttered into his mug as Y/N smirked victoriously, patting Dean’s shoulders. “Shut up. Shut up. Two out of three” Dean protested.

Y/N rolled her eyes again, retracting her hands from his shoulders, sighing before extending her fist again. They banged their fists against their hands three times again. Resulting in the same as before, Dean grunted as Y/N smashed her fist against his two fingers. “God!” He growled.

Y/N smirked coyly, raising her chin as she looked Dean in the eye, holding his angry gaze intensely. That is, until a cough was heard from behind Dean. Turning their attention to Sam, who now had his fist up, to go against Y/N. “You have a girlfriend!” Y/N shot at him, glaring at the younger Winchester.

“Jo’s not my girlfriend.” Sam retorted. “Yet” Dean coughed. Sam shot him a nasty sideeye at this, “I’m not even interested in Madison like that.” Sam scoffed. “She doesn’t need someone to try to put her to bed, she needs someone to protect her.” He further defended before gesturing between Dean and Y/N.

“And you two bozos only think with your parts in your pants. Now, game” Sam raised his fist again, tilting his head with his defensive statement, challenging Y/N. Rolling her eyes, Y/N accepted Sam’s challenge, extending her fist out towards him while Dean took a step back, sipping his coffee as he watched with a glint of enjoyment, silently praying she lost.

The pair of best friends banged their fists against their palms three times simultaneously. They both revealed their chosen items. Resulting in rock for Y/N and the scissors for Sam. “Fuck!” Y/N groaned. Sam chuckled out in amusement with a fist pump. Dean’s smirk grew wider as he glanced between Sam and Y/N.

She clenched her jaw with frustration, glaring fiercely at Sam. “Come on, y/n/n. It’s not the end of the world.” Sam teased, causing her to roll her eyes and give him the middle finger. “Best two out of three” She grumbled, putting up her fist again, Dean rolled his eyes but stayed silent.

“Bring it on,” Sam grinned. They banged their fists against their palms three times before they both revealed their chosen items. Rock for Sam and paper for Y/N. “Ha!” Sam barked, punching the air triumphantly as Y/N cursed under her breath again.

“I hate you both” Y/N mumbled before taking a gulp of her coffee, placing the mug back down on the counter. “I know” The brothers both said in sync, resulting in Y/N flipping them both off before snatching Dean by his hand, dragging him towards the exit. “Bundle up out there!” Sam mocked them as Y/N pulled open the door, his hand still wrapped around Dean’s wrist.

He mouthed a quick, ‘Thank you’ to his little brother, receiving a firm thumbs up and tight lipped smile in return.

Once they were outside, Y/N slipped her hand from Dean’s wrist, she tried not to show her disappointment. Instead, opting to glare at the floor as they left the building and approached the Impala. “Keys” She put her hand out, gesturing for him to give him the keys to Baby.

Dean rolled his eyes dramatically but without protesting, he pulled them out of his jacket pocket and placed them in the palm of her hand. It felt like his fingers lingered a little too long against her skin but she said nothing of it. They both climbed into the Impala, she started the engine with a hum.

As she revved it, Dean leaned his head against the window. His eyes roaming over Y/N and she put the Impala in drive, a sight he never saw often, but oddly enough, he loved seeing her behind his wheel. Y/N took in the sounds and the smell of the Impala. Something which always calmed her mind, it was almost like therapy. Mainly because it smelt like Dean, then pulled out of the parking spot.

It was now the next morning, a very tired Sam sat at Madison’s dining room table. Gently slapping his face to keep himself awake as Madison approached behind him, sifting through letters from her mail slot.

Sam’s eyes glanced up at her as Madison turned to him. Their eyes connecting, Sam quickly cleared his throat and gave the pretty girl a tight timid smile. “Um, do you wanna sit on the couch?” She asked, “No. nono. I’m okay” Sam assured her. “It's more comfortable,” She suggested.

“Aw, I’m fine” He chuckled, waving it off. Madison flashed Sam a coy smile, nodding before heading over to her laundry room.

A few moments after, Madison emerged with a basket of her undergarments pressed to her hip. She then made her way over to the dining room table, emptying out dozens of her panties right in front of Sam before picking up a very lacy sexy one, folding it directly in his eyesight.

Sam cleared his throat, averting his gaze away from the blue lacy panties and instead, his gaze dropped onto his hands, his mind wandering back to Jo. “You know what? I think I will sit on the couch” He cleared his throat awkwardly, scuffling away from the table before moving away to the couch.

He sat down with his hands clasped in front of him as Madison bit back a smile. The ringing of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. Silently thanking god for getting him out of the awkward situation. Sam quickly took his phone out of his pocket, clicking the answer button before pressing it to his ear.

“Let me guess, you’re sitting on her couch like a stiff, your mind stuck on Jo because you’re in an apartment with a pretty girl and you can’t do jackshit about it” Y/N’s amused voice chimed through the phone.

“Shut up” Sam muttered in response with a faint eye roll. He was a little embarrassed due to the fact that Y/N’s words were entirely accurate. “Did you find Kurt?” He asked, changing the subject.

Dean and Y/N were walking out of the body shop, the phone on speaker as Y/N held it. Dean chimed in, “He hasn’t been at work all week. But because we’re good and I mean really, really good. We got a like on where he might be” Cockiness dripping from his tone as they made their way to the Impala.

Dean opened the driver’s side door for Y/N so she could settle in before making his way to the passenger side, climbing in beside her. She handed the phone to Dean, who was shutting his own door as she started the ignition, “What’s she wearing?” Dean quipped to Sam with an amused smile.

His words earned him an annoyed, “Bye Dean” From his brother along with a thump to the head by Y/N. Dean cackled as the line went dead, gripping his head where she smacked him. “You're such an ass sometimes” Y/N muttered to Dean who snickered in response, as she pulled out of the lot.

"Yeah, well you're just jealous that you don't have my charm" Dean grinned at her. "Your charm only works on girls. Mine works on both" Y/N shot back, a small smirk played on her lips as Dean rolled his eyes, "Whatever" He muttered but she noticed his lip twitch slightly in amusement.

Back in Madison’s apartment, Sam was still on the couch. A bit more relaxed, he tensed up slightly when Madison plopped on the couch next to him. Picking up the TV remote from the coffee table in front of them to turn on the set. He sighed deeply, an amused smile crossing his face when the 70’s soap opera, All My Children started playing.

Sam bit back a snort, clearing his throat when Madison’s eyes snapped over to him. “I heard that” Madison quipped, “What? Saw what?” Sam played dumb, biting back his smile. “Okay, this is the deal. My house, my TV.” She shot back with a friendly smile as Sam allowed himself to laugh.

He then glanced at Madison to see a small smile on her face, “I never get to watch my show. So suck it up.” She said firmly. Sam bit his tongue, "Fine. Your house, your TV. I get it. Okay” Sam muttered, trying to contain his small smile. The two sat in comfortable silence as they watched the scene play out on the screen.

A couple hours have passed and the few episodes they watched have come to an end. Sam stared dumbfounded at the TV, seemingly having been engrossed in the show. “Wait, so Kendall married Ethan’s father just to get back at him?!” He gasped theratically. Madison nodded, giggling at the expression on his face.

“Yep. And now she’s set to inherit all the casinos that were supposed to go to Ethan.” She explained, “What a bitch” Sam scoffed, shaking his head. When he realized how engrossed he was in the show, he cleared his throat again as Madison shot him a knowing look. The two burst out laughing, “Admit it, you’re hooked!” She cackled, smacking his arm lightly.

“No, no, no. I wouldn’t say I’m hooked” Sam quickly protested but his words died in his throat, erupting in laughter again. “Can I ask you a question? It’s- its- a little personal?” Sam asked timidly, turning to her, “You’ve seen my entire underwear collection. Go ahead” She responded a bit smugly.

“Okay, uh-” Sam began. "Well, you’re… You’re clearly smart. I mean, your house is full of great books, you know? And, you’re independent.." He said, “Uh-huh” Madison hummed. “No offense. But what were you doing with Kurt?” He asked curiously. His tone was gentle, not at all harsh or confrontational.

Madison’s brow furrowed at this, thinking for a bit. "I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like he introduced himself like: ‘Hi, I’m possessive and controlling, and I like to punch people. Wanna be my girlfriend?’ " Madison mused, the two chuckling. “Yeah, well, I guess we all make mistakes” Sam sighed, “Yeah, well mine’s wanted by the police” Madison snorted as Sam shook his head.

“You wanna know why I stayed with him? Really?” Sam gestured for her to continue, Madison took a breath before propping her elbow on the back of the couch. “I was too insecure to leave,” She said honestly. “I find that hard to believe, I mean, you don’t really seem like the type” Sam stated honestly.

“Yeah, well. Some stuff happened. My life changed. I changed for the better, I think” She sighed, the smile still on her face, “What happened?” Sam asked concerned. “Well, for one thing, I got mugged” She shrugged, still smiling. “And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” Sam snorted, shaking his head. “I know, it sounds strange. And don’t get me wrong, it rattled me” She chuckled, leaning closer to him.

Sam gulped, pulling back a little as she spoke. “Then it hit me: I could keep feeling sorry for myself, or I could take control of my life. And I chose the latter” She stated, Sam nodded, looking at the woman with admiration. “First thing I did was tell Kurt that he had to go,” She added. “Smart move” Sam smiled.

“Apparently. Everything else just opened, blossomed. It’s all been wonderful, really.” Madison responded as Sam shook his head with a small smile. “What? Doesn’t everyone else think that being a victim of random violence is the best thing that ever happened to them?” Madison joked, earning a chuckle from Sam.

“Yeah, not so much” He snorted. “You’re…unusual” He choked, internally facepalming himself at his choice in words. Madison tilted her head, amused. “Unusual like…unusual?” She joked, making a ‘coo-coo’ sign at her head. “No, no, no. Nonono” Sam chuckled. “Unusual, like….impressive” He complimented. “You think so?” Madison blushed as Sam nodded.

"Okay, I have a question for you," Madison piped up. "Uh huh." Sam smiled, "How come someone like you is still single? I mean… It’s insane” Madison confessed to him. "I, um… I’m not really- I think- uh...." Sam said, ducking his head down and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, his mind wandering back to Jo.

"Oh, I get it” Madison grinned, “There’s someone else, huh? Come on, who is she?” She pried, teasingly nudging him. Sam bit his lip, raising his head to meet her gaze, “Uh, She’s…well, she’s special” He confessed fondly. "Aw, that’s so cute!" She teased, nudging him again.

Sam rolled his eyes but smiled at her, "She’s badass. Total badass. She could kick my ass if she wanted to. And she’s pretty smart too" He said fondly. Madison noticed the look on his face, "Ooh, so, does this badass lady have a name?" She joked. "Well…she- her name's Jo" Sam confessed, smiling to himself.

“Well, before we get into that. Accept my deepest apologies for tossing my panties out in front of you. I assumed you were single” Madison apologized, pressing one of her palms to her chest. "Hey, no biggie. I've seen- well, weirder" He chuckled, "Plus, Dean or Y/N probably would have liked that" Sam teased, earning a snort from Madison.

Madison nodded before she continued, "So, you and Jo are…?" She trailed off, "Complicated. But it’s alright. We’re getting there” Sam shrugged, smiling at the thought of Jo. "Complicated, how?” Madison asked with a small frown. "Well, we uh…" Sam rubbed the back of his neck, looking off to the side.

He couldn’t believe he was talking about this with someone else. He talked to Y/N about Jo, only to receive a tap along with, ‘Man up and ask Jo to be your girlfriend already.’ Meanwhile, Dean told him to ‘Lay another kiss on her and take her to nookietown.’

"It’s all good, you can tell me” Madison smiled, Sam let out a breath he held before giving her a small smile of his own. "Well, it’s just…we haven’t really said anything to each other about our feelings yet” He confessed to Madison, his smile growing wider.

“We talk a lot and uh, well. When we first met, she caught my eye but my brother was flirting with her. So I kinda let it die…and then, something bad happened and I felt like I was gonna lose my mind when I couldn’t find her. Then we had a falling out- family stuff.” He vaguely explained the events of Holmes capturing Jo to Ellen telling her about the hunt that went sideways with their dads.

“Then we made up, became friends, grew closer over the time and uh…we kissed recently” His cheeks flared at the thought. "You kissed her?" Madison repeated with a surprised brow raised. “Well, uh- she more kissed me,” Sam confessed, running a hand through his hair.

“Not that I didn’t want it!” He quickly stated, “I did. Obviously. But I don’t know if she’s gonna want something serious…you know? I tried relationships in the past and they…well…I end up losing the people I love” He sighed, an aching pain grew heavy in his chest.

"I’m so sorry, Sam” Madison frowned, offering Sam a small sympathetic smile, which he appreciated, “And, well. You don’t have to listen to me, but I think you should shoot your shot. Man up and ask her to be your girlfriend” Madison encouraged Sam with a wide smile, trying to lighten the mood. Sam burst out into laughter at this, “You sound like my sister” He snorted, shaking his head.

“My brother, and I quote, told me to ‘lay another kiss on her and take her to nookietown’ or whatever the fuck that means” Sam scoffed, quoting Dean’s words. "Well, looks like I have their support then” Madison joked with a smirk. As Sam calmed his laughter, a faint smile played on his lips, she was right.

Maybe he should man up and ask her. He felt more confident with her words of assurance, and honestly glad that he was able to discuss it with somebody else other than Dean and Y/N.

"You know? You’re actually really easy to open up to" Sam said suddenly with wide eyes, surprised by his own ease, "Sorry, that came out wrong" He apologized quickly. Madison laughed lightly, shaking her head, “No, it’s okay. It was a sweet thought” Madison stated honestly.

They smiled at each other for a moment, a comfortable silence filled the air between them. Their eyes drifted to the TV to watch a commercial before the ringing of his phone snapped them out of their own thoughts. “One second” He muttered to Madison, putting up a finger politely before pressing the phone to his ear. “Hey,” Sam answered.

“We found him” Sam heard Y/N’s voice echo in the phone along with rock music in the background. The Hunter was currently in a strip club leaning against a stage as a stripper danced around a pole. A coy smile played on her face as she watched with amazement, lust and respect at the way the woman worked her body around the pile.

“Good, don’t take your eyes off him." Sam instructed as Y/N’s eyes flickered over to Kurt, who was at another end of the stage, sipping a beer. "Oh, yeah. My eyes are glued” Y/N remarked, holding up a $10 bill for the stripper. “Look, Sammy, I- uh- I gotta go” She cleared her throat as the stripper took the bill from her hand.

“I don’t wanna miss anything” She said smugly as before hanging up the phone. Dean exited the bathroom in the club, zipping up his pants as his eyes flickered over to Y/N, who was still pressed up against the stage. Ogling the nearly naked stripper.

"Goddamn it, Y/N" Dean muttered, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. He felt a familiar flare in his chest, wiping off his wet hands on his jeans before striding over to her. "What are you doing? Come on, focus” Dean huffed, snapping his fingers in front of her face before dragging Y/N away from the stage.

She grunted in protest as Dean pulled her along to the bar, a small smirk playing on his lips. “We’re supposed to be watching Kurt, not Cinnamon,” Dean scoffed, ordering two beers. “You’re kidding me, right?” Y/N snorted, “You? Dean Winchester, are in a strip club and you’re not looking at a stripper?” She laughed, shaking her head.

"I’m not an animal, Y/N" Dean scoffed, raising his brow as the beers arrived in front of them. Y/N rolled her eyes, "You just asked Sam a couple hours ago, and I quote, ‘What’s she wearing?’ about Madison” Y/N deadpanned, her eyes diverting back to Kurt, who was still sitting near the stage as she picked up her beer, settling on one of the bar stools.

"Okay, you got me" He raised his hands in defeat, a small chuckle escaped his lips. He took a large gulp of his beer, his tongue tracing his bottom lip to catch the few droplets that dribbled out the corner of his mouth. It didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N, who bit her lip at the sight, glancing back over at Kurt with narrowed eyes.

"So, what’s the plan here? Or are we just gonna tail him all night?” Y/N asked him, her finger tracing over the rim of her beer bottle. Dean raised a brow, his eyes following the movement of her finger before he shifted in his seat, clearing his throat and tearing his eyes away from her hand.

"Yep" Dean stated, raising his beer up to his lips again. He stole a quick peek at Y/N, who was glancing back over at the stage once again. Her eyes wandering over the stage and all of the working strippers, her legs subconsciously tightening from all of the erotic images.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking the same, having to tear his eyes away from the strippers himself. "Y/N" Dean called out to her in an exasperated huff, snapping her out of her thoughts. "What?" She asked curiously after downing a gulp of beer. "Stop drooling over the strippers" He pointed a finger at her accusingly.

"I wasn’t drooling over anyone, asshat. I was observing the talent and the way they work their body around the pole” She explained casually as he bit back a snort. "Sure, sure you weren’t nutcase" He muttered, sipping his beer as he shook his head at her response. “Honestly, I think strippers are badass” She stated, leaning back on the bar.

"How so?" He asked curiously, his brow raised in interest. Y/N smirked at this, biting the inside of her cheek, "Well, I’m glad you asked" She cleared her throat, shifting around on the bar stool, leaning against the bar.

“They’re strong, obviously. I mean, it takes a helluva lot of strength for us to do pull ups. Imagine doing that all night on a pole. And the creeps, they’ve gotta defend themselves from handsy assholes who think just because they have an erotic job, they can touch them if they wanna. Plus, they’re making their own dough. I respect it” Y/N explained with a shrug.

Dean thought for a few moments as he let her words sink in, "Yeah, you’re right" He stated honestly, nodding approvingly. "Plus, they can dance. I couldn’t dance even if someone held a gun to my face" He pointed out, earning a snort from Y/N. “Yeah, I know” She laughed, nudging him playfully.

"Oh, so you’re saying you could do it?" Dean chuckled, raising his brow as a smirk grew on his lips. “Ah, yeah” She scoffed as if it was obvious. "Come on, no way you can dance" He chuckled, a challenging look in his eyes, “I can!” She defended. "Prove it" He gestured to the dance floor.

Y/N bit her lip, holding his gaze for a moment before she finally pulled away with a soft snort as she finished off the rest of her beer. "Fine" She sighed, taking the chance to show him that she can in fact dance. So she snatched Dean by his arm, his eyes widening in surprise when she pulled him onto the dancefloor.

Dean allowed her to drag him along, laughing as Y/N turned around to smirk at him. She began swaying her hips to the music, her eyes closed as she got into a groove. ‘Shakin’ Hands’ by Nickelback filled the club's walls.

Dean was amused, to say the least, he laughed heartily while his eyes followed the swaying of her hips. She was, in fact, a great dancer. It was really surprising.

‘She ain’t no Cinderella when she’s getting undressed.’

‘Cause she rocks it like the naughty wicked witch of the west’

"Show me what you got Winchester!" She yelled above the music, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk before spinning around to face him. Without a word, she placed her hands on his shoulders, guiding his hands to her hips. He let her guide his hands, gently gripping her sides as the both rocked back and forth together.

From time to time, their eyes would glance back over to Kurt, making sure he was still in place but at this moment, it was hard for them to focus on the task. Though, being the trained hunters they are, they multitasked pretty well.

They didn’t realize how long they were dancing, they were too caught up with each other to care. All that mattered was the feel of her body pressed against his, the way he held onto her hips as if his life depended on it. Their bodies swayed together, seemingly moving like the waves of the ocean.

They leaned into each other’s touch, their nose’s grazing against one another’s every so often.

She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment as her eyes flickered down to his lips. His lips were oh-so-close. His pupils darted between her lips and her eyes, "You sure know how to dance, princess" Dean said in a low tone as his hands traveled along her lower back. Y/N’s breath hitched with a shiver.

The feeling of his calloused hands sent goosebumps along her skin, she felt a familiar ache begin to form in between her legs. Her eyes traveled down to his plump lips and back up to his eyes. "You’re not so bad yourself, charming" She whispered to him, her hands traveling up his hard chest slowly.

They were so close to one another, all they would need to do is lean in and their lips would be pressed together. Dean could feel her soft breaths against his skin, her intoxicating scent of her coconut shampoo and the tobacco from her last cigarette half an hour ago was filling his nostrils.

Y/N felt his eyes wander down to her lips, the thought of his lips against her made her stomach flutter in anticipation. This made her mind wander back to her dream from weeks ago of Dean’s lips roaming her body. A pleasant and familiar warmth spreading through her southern region.

Dean’s grip on her hips tightened somewhat, causing her to let out a barely audible gasp. Y/N allowed her hand to travel up the nape of his nape, threading the hair at the back of his head between her fingers. Dean reveled in her touch, holding back a moan from the way her hand ran along his neck, his heart was pounding out of his chest at Y/N’s sudden move and burst in confidence.

Dean Winchester was sporting a rock hard erection that was straining against the confines of his jeans, luckily, Y/N pulled away before she could feel it press against her because at the corner of her eye, she saw Kurt getting up from near the stage, paying his bill and making his way to the exit.

Dean didn’t seem to notice, being too drawn on tracing her features with his eyes but when he noticed she looked away, he followed the direction her gaze was directed in.

"He’s leaving!" Y/N exclaimed, when it registered in her head, breaking away from him. At that moment, Dean cleared his throat, "Oh, yeah. Right” He said out of breath, blinking away the fog of lust as Y/N took off after Kurt. He quickly reached into his pants to adjust himself before he followed behind her and they rushed outside of the club after their suspect, the cool night air hitting their face.

____________________________________________

They eventually caught up to Kurt and ended up trailing him back to his apartment. Waiting for the moon to fully set in and for him to wolf out. They were both currently leaned up against a dumpster in the alleyway where they found the dead cop yesterday with a direct view of his veranda.

“Jesus Christ, how long does this take?” Y/N mumbled frustrated while loading up their guns with a round each of silver bullets. A cigarette tucked between her lips. Dean had binoculars up to his eyes, keeping his sights on Kurt’s balcony at the far end of the alleyway.

"Patience, sweetheart" Dean reminded her, his voice rough due to them being up all night after not getting much sleep in days. And both very sexually frustrated…for obvious reasons. He could hear her mumble under her breath a smart remark in response.

He ignored it and carried on. “He must have been too tired from turning last night" He theorized, checking his watch with a scoff, "It’s been over an hour already" His brow twitched, watching Y/N take a puff of her cigarette. He’d been keeping his eyes on her the entire night.

His mind kept reliving the moment they were dancing together, the way she was so close to him made him shiver. His thoughts were interrupted by Y/N lighting another cigarette and cursing to herself. The pent up sexual frustration along with her impatience was riding on every part of her body.

“Goddamn it, I don’t know about you but this is seriously pissing me off” Y/N complained, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff. She bit her lip, her mind keeping going back to the heated moment they shared. Her legs were still throbbing, her core still aching, she felt like she was about to combust, and being so close to him the whole night didn’t help her condition at all.

His eyes flickered back up to her eyes and then down to the stick tucked between her fingers. She turned her attention to Dean, noticing his gaze was trapped on the stick wedged between her fingers.

“Want a taste?" She offered playfully, holding her half lit cigarette out for Dean's taking. Without a word, he leaned his head down slightly, capturing the tip of the bud between his lips.

She watched in amusement when he immediately leaned down, taking a slow drag from the tip that was still wedged between her fingers. His lip left a feathering touch on her fingers. He made quite the effort to prolong the contact, which Y/N was enjoying way too much.

When he pulled back, he blew the smoke out of his nose and a satisfied hum of tobacco filled his lungs. "Thanks” He murmured gruffly, a smug look on his face. Y/N nodded in return, taking another drag herself, trying to ignore heat rushing between her legs.

A loud crash of glass shattered from somewhere above their heads caught their attention, their eyes snapped to see the curtains fall. "What the fuck" Dean muttered, in surprise. "About damn time" Y/N stated as she handed Dean his gun. They both placed their safety off. Their eyes connected, both giving each other a firm nod in agreement.

They rushed into the building and quickly made their way up the stairs before finally reaching the third floor. Their breathing was a little heavier than before and their hands were gripping on their guns like their lives depended on it. Dean tried opening the door but it was locked, he went to raise his foot to kick it inwards but Y/N beat him to the punch.

Raising her hand towards the door, her eyes flashed over white as the tips of her fingers turned aqua blue, once again. The door flew off its hinges, a loud crash erupted in the silence of the hallway. Dean’s eyes flickered between her and the door that was now in pieces, “Show off” He muttered, earning an eye roll from Y/N.

Their steps were light and swift as they quietly walked inside of the apartment, aiming their guns around the room. The windows were now busted open, the curtains billowing around them from the wind. They heard nothing, nothing but their own breathing but that was until they heard the soft growl of an animal.

Their heads snapped towards the sound coming from the left side of the apartment. They stormed into the master bedroom to see a slender familiar figure hovering over Kurt’s corpse, clawing away into his chest cavity at his heart. Their eyes were wide in shock as the creature turned to face them in a snap, eyes wild and blue. Madison snarled at them, attacking Y/N before she could react.

She harshly pushed Y/N into Dean, disarming them both of their guns. The two hunters went flying back into the wall with the powerful superhuman strength Madison displayed. Dean’s head hit the concrete wall, knocking him unconscious immediately.

So Madison turned her attention to a dazzled Y/N, attempting to claw at her but the hunter reacted quickly. Sending a wave of power from hand at Madison, who went flying back just a few feet. Y/N held her head, her vision blurred from the knock she received to her head, trying to scramble for her gun but Madison was quick to the punch, kicking the gun away before Y/N could reach it.

She straddled Y/N again, she reached out, trying to summon the gun to her hands but she was too weak to muster up the power. So she reacted in the only way she could, stabbing Madison in her forearm with her silver butterfly knife that was luckily lodged into her jacket pocket.

Madison let out a bloodcurdling scream, clawing at the wound before backhanding Y/N, knocking her unconscious before narrowly escaping through the broken balcony glass door.

____________________________________________

Dean woke just as the sun was rising with a dull thud through his skull, an uncomfortable groan escaping his lips as he sat up. A small bruise was already beginning to form on the back of his head from the knock into the wall. He sat up slowly with a hiss, his vision blurry and black dots danced across his vision.

Pushing the dizziness from his head with a heavy grunt, his eyes immediately searched the room for Y/N, who was still unconscious, sprawled out on the floor with blood dripping down her nose. His heart dropped in his chest as he scrambled over to her.

"Y/N! Y/N! Come on, princess, wake up! I need you to wake up!" He lightly shook her shoulders, checking every inch of her to see if she had any other injuries.

Y/N stirred softly, whimpering a little but began to wake. Her eyelids fluttered a few times before being shot open, her eyes wide. She quickly sat up, groaning a little as she felt a rush of pain to her head.

"Thank god" Dean breathed a sigh of relief, pulling her in for a hug as he buried his face into the crook in her neck. Y/N took a moment before fully coming to her senses, registering where she was. She hugged him back weakly, “What the fuck?” She groaned.

Dean pulled away, cupping her face in his hands as his eyes wandered over her, inspecting her further. Using his thumb to wipe away some of the blood from her nose, “We need to call, Sam,” Dean said urgently, remembering his brother was ‘protecting’ a freaking werewolf.

He took his phone out, hurriedly dialing in Sam's number, pressing the phone to his ear as he waited for an answer. “God that chick was strong” Y/N groaned, as Dean wrapped his arm around her waist and helped her to her feet with one hand, his phone pressed to his ear with the other. "Yeah, I'll say" He muttered, "She hit like fucking a tank" Y/N commented with a shaky breath.

But Sam hadn't answered yet, "Come on, Sammy" Dean muttered to himself impatiently. "Guys, you okay?" Sam finally answered the phone. Dean quickly put it on speaker, pressing his head to Y/N’s forehead, which was hot to the touch. She swayed a bit on her feet, still groggy. "Yeah, now that we’re conscious.” Dean groaned. “The werewolf knocked us out. Sam, it’s Madison" Dean explained.

“What?” Sam gasped, rushing over to Madison’s room. “Yeah, awesome fucking job at keeping an eye on her” Dean quipped sarcastically, as Y/N groaned again from the striking pain in her head. Sam pushed in the door to see Madison asleep in her bed. “Dean, Y/N. I’ve been here the whole time. She’s in bed, asleep” Sam told them. “Well, she wasn’t a few hours ago.” Y/N snapped.

“Check her right arm below her elbow. I nicked her with my silver butterfly knife” Y/N instructed him. With that Sam hung up, turning back to Madison who was now stirring awake. “Morning” Madison greeted Sam with a yawn, his eyes flickered down to her right arm to see a gash exactly where Y/N said it would be.

Madison gasped when she realized she was naked, “Um, where are my pajamas?” She asked Sam, who’s eyes darkened, bile rising in his throat. He immediately made his way over to her front door. “Sam? What’s going on?” Madison called out to him, using the blanket to cover her body. “Where are you going?!” She called out as Sam locked her door from the inside.

“I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you” Sam narrowed his eyes at her, as fear crossed her features.

Madison was now dressed and Sam had his own gun with silver bullets in his hand, his arms crossed as he glared at Madison. Leaning on the dining room table while she sat tied to one of her chairs, “You're psychotic” Madison sobbed, “The whole ‘I’m a cop’ trio. God, I am so stupid!” Madison scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Well I guess neither of us are who we said we were, huh?” Sam sassed.

“Sam, you’re sick, okay? You’re imagining things. Monsters don’t exist, not really” Madison sobbed, she seemed sincere but Sam refused to buy it. “You know what? Save the act” Sam cut her off with a stern tone as he paced across the room. “It’s not an act! I am not a werewolf. There is no such thing!” Madison sobbed as she defended herself.

“They’re not real! You know they’re not real!” Sam’s head snapped towards her as he strided back over, lowering himself to point at her wound below her elbow with his gun. “No?! Then where did that come from?!” He shouted in her face. She turned to him with a tear filled face. “I don’t know, Sam! God, you need help. Please, don’t do something that you’re gonna regret” Madison pleaded.

Sam's eyes darkened as he stared down at the wound, anger flaring up in the pit of his stomach. This girl was either in full denial or she truly did not know what she was. But Sam couldn’t think about that. For now, she was a threat that needed to be contained one way or another.

The woman seemed sincere in her words, hesitation crossing his face. “I’m not what you think I am. I’m not” Her voice broke as a knocking at the door caught Sam’s attention. He broke his gaze away from her, padding over to the door. He pulled it open to reveal Dean and Y/N, they both nodded at Sam as they entered.

“How you doing? My head feels great, thanks” Dean quipped sarcastically as Y/N glared at Madison, who was shaking in her confines of being tied to the chair. “We gotta talk” Sam whispered to them, gesturing for them to follow them into the kitchen. They nodded in unison before following behind him.

“She says she has no idea what I’m talking about,” Sam told them. Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. “She’s lying” Y/N stated the obvious. “Or maybe she doesn’t know she’s changing. Maybe when the creature takes over, she blacks out” Sam suggested. “Like a really hot Incredible Hulk?” Dean commented.

“Come on, dude. She ganked her boss and her ex-boyfriend. That doesn’t sound rash and unconscious” Dean further stated. “Yeah, but what if it was, guys?” Sam defended. “I mean, what if some animal part of her brain saw both those guys as threats. Hell, the cop too” He further protested. “What are you? The dog whisperer now?” Y/N sassed.

Sam rolled his eyes at this, “Look, man. I just-” Sam began pacing the kitchen. “I don’t know, there was something in her eyes” He tried to explain but Dean and Y/N looked at him as if he were crazy. “Yeah, she’s killing people!” Dean shot back. “But if she has no control over it!”

“Exactly, she can’t control it! Look even if she’s telling the truth, it’s not gonna change anything” Y/N cut Sam off, her cold tone sending a shock down Sam’s spine. She was usually so kind and compassionate but it was a whole different side to her when monsters were involved.

“I’m not putting a bullet through some girl's chest who has no idea what’s happening!” Sam defended again, trying to keep their voices at bay. “Sam, she’s a monster and you’re feeling sorry for her?!” Dean argued. “Maybe I understand her” Sam retorted, this made Dean's face drop and Y/N’s heart pound.

“Look. There might be another way we can get the job done without having to waste her” Sam suggested before moving to the counter where John’s journal was sitting. Dean and Y/N shared a knowing look at Sam’s statement before turning to him.

“Are you thinking what we think you’re thinking?” Y/N said. “Dad’s theory: Lycanthropy might have a cure if you kill the werewolf who bit you, severing the bloodline” Sam read from the journal, “Might have a cure. Meaning, who the hell knows?” Dean retorted. “It’s worth a shot!” Sam defended.

“We don’t even know where to start looking! Alright? I mean the puppy that bit her could be anyone, anywhere. It could’ve been years ago” Y/N exclaimed as Dean nodded along in agreement. Sam went silent for a few seconds before something clicked in his head. “No, I don’t think so” He muttered, placing the book back down before opening the door that led to Madison’s living room.

“Madison. When were you mugged?” He asked the girl gently, kneeling beside her. Madison glared at Sam through tear filled eyes, not uttering a word. “Please, it's important, alright? Just answer the question” Sam pleaded as Dean and Y/N shot daggers at Madison with their stares. “About a month ago” Madison hesitated to answer.

“Did you see the guy?” Sam asked. “No. Grabbed me from behind” Madison shook her head, y/n realized where Sam was going with the questions. “Did he bite you?” She asked, Madison tilted her head in confusion at the female hunter. “How did you know that?” Her brows furrowed, Y/N’s eyes widened, darting over to the boys.

“Where?” Sam asked urgently. “O-on the back of my neck” Madison stuttered, Sam nodded before holding up his gun and placing it on the dining room table beside him. He got up and walked around Madison’s chair to pull back her hair, revealing the healed over bite wound. “Well, that’s just a love bite. Believe me, that could’ve been a lot worse” Dean commented.

Y/N shot a glare at Dean’s comment, he sheepishly shrugged back. "Where were you at the time?” Y/N asked. “Walking home from a friend’s loft,” Madison answered. “Let me guess: Not too far from Hunter’s Point?” Sam further questioned. Madison nodded at this, still shocked at how they knew.

Sam shut the door that led to Madison’s kitchen, “Same place where those other murders happened. I’m telling you guys, it’s a werewolf’s hunting grounds” Sam insisted, turning to Dean and Y/N. “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be out tonight” Dean stated. “It’s the right time in the lunar cycle” Y/N stated, Dean shot her a glare.

“You’re not buying into this crap, are you?” Dean scoffed, making her put her hands up in defense. “I’m not! I’m just stating” Y/N defended. “Look, I know it’s a long shot.” Sam sighed. “Okay, but you’re forgetting something. Maddy’s probably gonna turn soon, alright? We can't just let her take off to an all-you-can-eat buffet” Dean stated. “I’ll stay with her,” Sam shrugged.

“And if she busts loose?” Y/N asked, Sam hesitated for a second, tearing his gaze away from her. “Sam” Dean groaned. “I’ll do it,” Sam mumbled. Dean and Y/N shared a knowing look at this, Sam clearly bonded with Madison so they didn’t trust that he would actually put her down if he had to. “Sam” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’ll shoot her, alright?” Sam’s gaze met hers, the hesitancy clear in his eyes. “But, guys. I need you two to go out there. At least, go look for the thing” Sam pleaded, Y/N sighed as Dean rolled his eyes. “Guys, please. We can save this girl.” Sam begged, Y/N’s eyes softened at his tone, understanding where he was coming from.

Knowing that if it were Sam or Jo in this situation, hell, even Dean, she’d do what she can to save her friends. “Fine” Y/N nodded, “What?!” Dean huffed. Y/N placed a hand on his chest, cutting him off. “We’re going, Dean” Y/N stated firmly, making Dean shut up immediately.

Sam’s eyes filled with relief as Y/N spoke, “Good,” Sam nodded. Y/N turned to Sam, “Promise us that you won’t be a dumbass” She stated as a matter of fact. Sam nodded, “I’ll shoot her if I have to” Sam’s voice softened at his words. "Promise" Y/N demanded firmly, Sam exhaled and nodded.

“I promise” He said sincerely, “Good” Y/N stated before making her way towards the door with Dean in tow. Y/N turned back and looked at Sam once more, giving him a small smile before following Dean out the door.

Once they got in the Impala, Dean sat down behind the wheel as Y/N sat down in the passenger seat. She buckled herself in before Dean peeled out of the parking lot.

“I can’t believe you’re on board with this,” Dean grumbled, Y/N rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, shut up” She shot back, leaning her head on the window of the car. “You’re crazy for going along with this” Dean protested, Y/N shifted herself to face him.

“I get it, okay? If it were you in that chair, I’d do everything I could to save your ass” She shot back defiantly. Dean’s eyes widened for a brief moment before he quickly hid his surprise. He was taken aback by Y/N’s statement, but quickly regained his composure.

“You would?” He asked, “Duh, dumbass” Y/N rolled her eyes once again at his question. The car fell into a brief silence as Y/N turned back to look out her window once more. However, she wasn’t able to keep it silent for long. “And what’d you do if the roles were switched, huh?” She asked, her voice softer than before.

Dean tensed at her question. He knew exactly what Y/N was asking, and he also knew that he would do the same without hesitation. But he was too stubborn to admit it aloud. "Come on, just answer the question" Y/N’s tone was still soft, as she kept her gaze out the window.

After a few moments of silence, the only sound being the rumble of the car's engine, he finally spoke up. "You know the answer already," He mumbled, his voice low but firm. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at his response, the words bringing a small grin to her face.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't bring himself to lie. "Just wanted to make sure" She teased, causing him to give her a half-hearted glare. The silence that followed was much more comfortable than before, as both Dean and Y/N were lost in their own thoughts.

The only noise that could be heard was the hum of the Impala's engine. Y/N continued to stare out the window, lost in her own thoughts, as Dean kept his focus on the dark road ahead.

____________________________________________

Hunter’s Point

It was later that night, Dean and Y/N were surveilling Hunter’s Point. Parked near a bar where they assumed the werewolves hung out. The place was a shithole, it was an old dive bar that probably hadn't been renovated in years.

There were a couple of sketchy-looking dudes hanging out outside, and the neon sign flickered menacingly above the entrance. They had a clear view of it from their location, and they were keeping a close eye on the crowd that entered and left the establishment.

They were getting bored, now playing rock paper scissors while waiting for anyone who even looked remotely suspicious to exit the bar. “You’re cheating” Dean protested as Y/N won for the third time. “I’m not cheating, you just suck” She retorted, sticking out her tongue at him.

“I’m just too good” Y/N joked, Dean rolled his eyes at her taunt. "Yeah, yeah, you’re a real winner” He grumbled as he watched the door of the bar, Y/N let out a soft chuckle at his annoyance. A young attractive woman came walking out of the bar, dressed in a furry white coat, a glittery hand bag in her clutches.

Dean and Y/N both sat up straight as they noticed the girl. "Hey, check out the hottie" Dean nudged Y/N. “Focus, dumbass” Y/N rolled her eyes, scoffing at his hypocrisy for reprimanding her at the strip club and now he’s ogling a random chick. What caught their eye, however, was a familiar man exiting right behind the woman. Seemingly trailing her movement.

“Is that-” Y/N gasped. “Glen” Dean clenched his jaw, Madison’s neighbor Glen was coincidentally hanging out at Hunter’s Point. Only meaning one thing, the bastard was the werewolf that ‘mugged’ her. They observed as Glenn casually walked a few feet behind the hooker while keeping his eyes on her.

They shared a look before abruptly exiting the Impala. Wielding their guns as Glen followed the hooker into an alleyway. They heard an animalistic snarl coupled with the woman’s screams of terror. The duo rushed to follow the sound, sprinting down the dark alley.

The sounds of a struggle echoed loudly through the narrow space, only illuminated by a faint neon sign from the main street. They stumbled upon Glen attacking the terrified woman. “Hey!!” Y/N bellowed, both their guns raised at the werewolf. His eyes widened with fear, bearing his teeth at them as they emptied their clips with silver bullets in his chest.

The werewolf’s body jolted violently as the bullets pierced his chest. He let out a piercing cry, stumbling towards the wall before collapsing to the ground. He twitched as the silver poisoning seeped through his veins, still somewhat alive and coughing up blood.

The hooker he was previously attacking gasped with terror before pushing herself up to her feet. Her eyes wide at Dean and Y/N before making a break for it, running away screaming frantically. “Hey, don’t mention it!” Dean shouted sarcastically.

Dean and Y/N stood over Glen, who was coughing and spluttering blood. His fangs were still out as he spluttered, it retracted as they crouched beside him. “What happened?” Glen gasped, “Where am I?” He groaned painfully, Y/N raised her brows at this.

Jesus, it seemed like the poor dude didn’t even know he was a werewolf himself. “Ugh, Help- Help me.” Glen pleaded, coughing as the silver poisoning took effect on his body. “Oh god, oh my god” Glen sobbed. Y/N’s heart pained in her chest at the man’s suffering.

“Alright, easy, Glen. Just take it easy” Dean said calmly, but soon after Glen’s pulse weakened completely. Slumping dead on the ground as Dean and Y/N shared a pained look.

The alleyway fell into a eerie silence as the finality of the moment set in. Dean and Y/N both took a moment to collect themselves before Dean moved to stand up. He let out a weary sigh, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Y/N exhaled deeply at the sight of the dead man. "That poor guy. He didn't even know" She spoke quietly. "I know," Dean replied, running a hand through his hair. They both stood there in an anguished silence, feeling the weight of the situation weigh down on them. The gravity of the situation was heavy, they knew this part of the job all too well.

____________________________________________

The next morning, assuming everything was over. Sam was slumped in the backseat of the Impala while Dean was in the driver's side and Y/N sat shotgun, still parked in front of Madison’s apartment complex. Still staking out her place, just in case she turned again.

“It was sorta sad, actually. Glen had no clue what was going on” Dean stated, his head resting against the back of the seat as he and Y/N explained to Sam. Y/N took a drag from her cigarette before handing it to Dean, “Hey, why do you think he turned Madison, instead of just killing her in the first place?” She asked. Sam shrugged as Y/N passed the cigarette to Dean.

“I don’t know. I mean, he kind of seemed to have a thing for her” Sam answered, “Maybe his primal instinct did too” Y/N commented as Dean took a drag of the cigarette. “Maybe he was looking for a little hot breeding action” Dean added, this made Y/N scrunch her face up in disgust. “God dude, could you be more gross?” She groaned.

Dean chuckled at her reaction, “Hey, it’s a legitimate possibility” He stated as he passed the cigarette back to her. Y/N rolled her eyes at his comment, “You’re a pig” She retorted, making Sam snort with amusement from the backseat. “Yeah, something like that,” Sam sighed, his tone solemn. "What's up with you?" Dean asked, noticing Sam's sudden shift in mood.

Sam let out a soft sigh before answering, "Nothin' just thinking" He replied, his tone quiet. "Is it about Madison?" Y/N inquired, shifting in her seat to look at Sam who nodded, "Yeah" He admitted. “I thought you didn’t like her like that?” Dean raised his brow at his little brother as Y/N tilted her head.

"I don’t, not like that” Sam protested, “It’s just, I don’t know, we bonded a little, you know?” Sam sighed, he seemed genuinely remorseful that it turned out like that. Y/N’s facial features softened at Sam’s tone, she couldn’t help but sympathize with him.

"Hey, it’s not your fault man” Dean stated, trying to reassure his younger brother. However, Sam wasn’t having it as he let out another weary sigh, “Guys, she thought I was a stark raving lunatic” He retorted with a bitter edge to his tone, Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek at this.

A knock at the window on the passenger side startled them, their heads snapped to see Madison. “You know for a stakeout, your car’s a bit conspicuous” Madison commented as Y/N rolled the window down. “What are you still doing here?” She asked. “Honestly? Uh…we’re pretty sure you’re not gonna turn tonight..but we gotta be 100 percent” Dean responded.

“So, you know, we’re lurking” Y/N added with a small chuckle as Sam remained silent. He cleared his throat, before leaning forward. “Look, I know this sounds crazy—” He began. “Sure does.” Madison deadpanned before sighing, Sam’s gaze dropped to his hands. “Well, if we’re gonna wait it out. We might as well do it together” She sighed.

"What?" Dean blurted out. His tone was full of genuine surprise. He wasn’t expecting that response from her at all. Neither was Y/N, she was also surprised at the fact that Madison had agreed to hang out with them, as it was just the night before she was terrified of them.

They were now walking back into Madison’s apartment. “You were telling the truth, weren't you? About everything” Madison began as she locked the door behind them. “What you did, it was to help me” She frowned as they all shared nervous looks. “Yeah” Sam’s voice cracked. “I did all those horrible things…when I turned” Tears welled up in her eyes.

Sam offered her a sympathetic look but her heart pained for her, “You didn’t know” He said softly. Y/N and Dean listened intently, watching the exchange between Madison and Sam with pensive looks. Y/N particularly empathized with her, as she could see how much the events were clearly weighing down on her conscience, it was painful to witness.

“So, when will we know for sure? Moonrise?” Madison asked, clearing her throat. “No, I don’t think so. You turned in the middle of the night last night. I think we gotta hang in until sunup” Sam told her. “Well, it looks like we got ourselves a few hours to kill,” Dean chimed in. “Poker, anyone?” Y/N suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

"What, and lose all my money? Fat chance" Dean responded with mild amusement, but he still seemed like he was deep in thought. Y/N chuckled at his reluctance but Madison looked confused, "Poker?" She questioned. "You know, cards?" Y/N explained as she grabbed a deck of cards from her bag. Madison just looked at them blankly before sighing.

“Yeah, I know what poker is," She grumbled. "But aren't you afraid I'm gonna go all 'The Wolfman' on you guys?" She questioned. "Nah, we got it covered," Dean reassured her, holding up a gun with silver bullets. Y/N smacked Dean harshly on his arm at this.

"What? I was just being honest" He shrugged at Y/N’s hit, rubbing his arm as a pout formed on his face. "Could’ve been a little less honest" She chastised him, rolling her eyes at Dean’s lack of tact. Meanwhile, Sam glared at his brother.

It was nearing midnight and the night had passed rather peacefully. The four of them sat in the small living room, playing Poker on the floor. Y/N and Sam were competing against Dean and Madison, it was currently Y/N’s turn to deal the cards.

"So far, I’m winning" Dean smirked as he looked down at his cards, he had two pairs at the moment. "Yeah, yeah whatever" Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes at his boastful statement. She leaned over to glance at Sam’s cards with a sly grin, trying to get a glimpse of his hand. However, he playfully smacked her head away.

"No peeking" Sam said with a grin, but Y/N didn’t relent as she continued to try and peek at his cards. Dean and Madison watched the two with amusement, chuckling as Y/N continued her attempts to cheat, much to Sam’s annoyance.

Despite the dreadful situation, the four found a way to make fun of it. Patiently waiting to see if Madison would turn, the tension in the room was still daft.

As Y/N continued to pester Sam with her attempts to cheat, Dean turned his attention to Madison, looking at her with a mix of wariness and sympathy. Despite the laughter and playful banter, the underlying tension was still palpable, as they all waited for the sun to rise.

"Just give it up, you're not gonna see my cards" Sam said with an amused chuckle, pushing Y/N's head away for the hundredth time. "That's the point" She protested, sticking out her lower lip in a playful pout as she finally relented in her attempts to peek at his cards.

“I think, I’m gonna go to bed” Madison said suddenly, stifling a yawn. The three of them glanced up as Madison rose to her feet, a yawn escaping her lips. "You sure?" Dean inquired, a tinge of worry in his voice. After all, it was still hours away from sunrise.

Madison nodded, “Yeah, I’ll get you guys some pillows and blankets” She assured them. "Thanks" Y/N chimed in as Madison disappeared into the bedroom. There was a tense silence that followed and the mood in the room turned serious once more.

"You really think she’s gonna make it through the night?" Sam asked, his gaze fixed on the ground in front of him. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, deep in contemplation. Dean leaned back against the couch, a tired sigh escaping him. "I sure as hell hope so" He replied, the weight of the situation evident in his weary voice.

"We have to hope so" Y/N stated firmly, there was a hint of desperation in her tone, as if she was trying to convince herself just as much as the others. Despite their best attempts to stay stoic, fear and vulnerability were creeping within them.

It was now around 2 am, the apartment was completely silent and dark, the only sound being the soft and steady inhale and exhale of breathing. Dean and Y/N slept soundly on the floor, wrapped in the blanket Madison had provided. Sam, on the other hand, had tossed and turned for the past couple of hours, unable to sleep properly.

Dean and Y/N were asleep on the floor in the living room, huddled together under the shared blanket. As usual, Dean was in a sprawled out position, his arms and legs were all over the place. However, Y/N was snuggled up right next to him, her head resting on his chest with her arm around his abdomen, using him as a makeshift pillow.

They looked completely at ease, their faces softened by sleep and the comforting presence of each other. Even in his sleep, Dean unconsciously held onto Y/N, bringing her closer to him, as if she was his personal teddy bear. Her head was nestled into the curve of his chest, their bodies flush against each other as their chests rose and fell in a smooth rhythm.

Despite the uncomfortable floor, the two of them looked completely comfortable, content in each other's warm embrace.

As Sam turned for what felt like the millionth time, trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, his eyes landed on the two forms that were snuggled up together on the floor. A soft smile appeared on his face at the sight of them. Dean and Y/N looked peaceful, soothed by each other's presence and a part of him envied them for it.

A loud crashing from Madison’s room caused Sam to shoot up from his position on the couch. The noise came from Madison's room and Sam's heart started racing as he quickly got to his feet, alert and ready for anything.

Y/N and Dean were startled awake by the sudden noise, they immediately sat up groggily, blinking the sleep from their eyes as their brains tried to catch up with what was happening.

"Fuck" Y/N groaned low whisper, holding her head, her heart pounding in fear. Dean was up on his feet instantly, his hand already reaching for the gun nearby while Sam quickly made his way towards Madison's room.

Madison was at her window, snarling at Sam. Sam rushed into the room, his eyes widened in shock and horror. There, standing at the window was Madison, but she was different. She had turned.

Her body was trembling, her face twisted with pain and fear, letting out a low, guttural snarl as she clawed at the window. He quickly rushed over to grab her as Dean and Y/N stormed the room with their guns before Madison had already jumped out of the window and escaped.

"No! No, no, no!" Dean shouted as he and Y/N stood near the window, but it was too late. Madison had already jumped out of the window, disappearing into the night before any of them could do anything.

Sam slumped down on the floor, his face a mix of horror and guilt.

The sun was now rising, Dean went to search for Madison while Y/N consoled a terrified Sam, still at her apartment. “I called Bobby. He doesn’t know anything. Except he knew severing the bloodline wouldn’t work. Everyone says it’s impossible to reverse” Y/N explained.

Sam sat silently, his mind racing with guilt and fear. Y/N's words only added to his growing despair, as he realized the gravity of the situation even more. It seemed hopeless.

“What the hell does it matter, Y/N. We gotta find some way to help her. Some legend we missed” Sam insisted. Y/N sighed and bit her lip, her expression conflicted. They were both desperate, searching for any possible way to help Madison. But they had exhausted all their options. "If there was, don’t you think someone we know would’ve known it" Y/N pressed.

Sam ran his hands over his face, a sigh of frustration escaping him. He knew she was right, yet he couldn't accept it, that there was nothing they could do to help Madison. "But there has to be," He countered back weakly. “We have to look harder until we find something!” Sam further defended.

“Sammy, I don’t think we got a choice here anymore” Y/N said gently, giving Sam a knowing look about what they have to do. Sam looked up at her, his eyes pleading for any other solution. But deep down, Sam knew what she was silently suggesting. He let out a shaky breath, his heart feeling like it was being crushed.

"What?" He scoffed angrily, pushing himself up from his chair. “I hate to say it, she’s a sweet girl, but part of her is-” Sam cut her off. “Evil?” He finished her sentence, getting up to face her. “Yeah!” Y/N shouted. “Part monster, whatever you want to call it” Y/N retorted, meeting Sam's angry glare head-on, as she too was growing agitated.

Sam's expression was a mix of anger and desperation as he stared at her. “Yeah, that’s what they say about me and you, y/n/n. About us!” Sam shouted back. Y/N felt a pang in her chest at his words, it hit her hard, but she didn’t back down. She clenched her jaw, refusing to give in. “Those people are wrong about us!” She snapped back.

“You and I know damn well that’s bullshit. And I’m not buying it for one second!” Sam retorted. "Then what do you want me to say, Sam?” Y/N fired back, her temper flaring at his stubbornness. “So me, you won’t kill. But Madison, you’re just gonna blow away?” Sam scoffed, placing his hands on his hips as he stood his ground.

Y/N felt a pang of guilt at his words but she steeled herself, her features hardening as she met his gaze, not backing down. "It’s not the same thing, and you know it" She said through gritted teeth.

The shrill sound of Sam's cell phone rang out, the sudden interruption causing a break in the heated argument. Sam quickly fished the device out of his pocket to answer it. "Yeah?" He answered, his tone still edged with anger as he brought the phone to his ear.

Y/N watched him, her breathing still ragged from the argument but she listened intently. “Sam?” Madison’s croaky voice came through the phone. Sam froze in shock as he heard Madison's voice. “Madison!? Where are you?” He practically yelled, hope and panic filling his voice. “I don’t- I don’t- I don’t know what I am” Madison sobbed.

The raw anguish in her voice broke Sam’s heart. He gripped the phone tighter, desperate to comfort her. “Just calm down, we’re gonna help. Just, stay where you are. Do you see any street signs?” He tried to reassure her, but his own voice was shaking.

“Um- yeah, yeah. Middle point” Madison answered, looking around as Y/N fished out her own phone to call Dean. Sam gave Y/N a firm nod as he took out a pen from his pocket and wrote down the name on his hand. “Alright, alright. Hold on, Maddy. We’re coming to get you. Just stay where you are”

Y/N quickly dialed Dean's number and held the phone to her ear. Her heart was racing as she waited for him to pick up. Meanwhile, Sam continued to talk to Madison, who was still sobbing on the other end of the line. He desperately tried to soothe her, even though he wasn’t sure if they could actually help her.

After a few tense seconds, Dean finally picked up the phone. "Yeah?" He answered gruffly. "We found her" Y/N nearly shouted into the phone, her heart racing. "Where is she?" Dean asked urgently. “Middlepoint, some street” She replied urgently, her voice shaking just a bit. “It’s not far from Y/N’s safehouse,” Sam added, having overheard the conversation.

"I'll be right there," Dean said before hanging up. Y/N put her phone back into her pocket, her heart pounding in anticipation. Sam was still on the phone with Madison, who was beginning to sound more hysteric. He desperately tried to keep her calm, telling her they were coming.

Dean found Madison and brought her back to her apartment. They were all in her dining room, Dean’s gun with the silver bullets was placed in front of a very disheveled Madison. The atmosphere in the room was heavy with dread. All of them were watching Madison with a mix of sympathy and fear.

Dean leaned forward, trying to meet her gaze but she was too distraught to look at anyone. “I don’t remember anything,” Madison sobbed. “I probably killed someone last night” Her words hung in the air, a chilling reminder of the danger she posed to herself and others.

The silence in the room echoed with the weight of her words. Sam and Y/N tried to hide their unease, but it was clear that they were all grappling with the gravity of the situation. “Didn’t I?” Madison croaked. Sam couldn’t bear to look at her, “There’s no way to know yet” Y/N said quietly.

“Is there something else we can try? To make it go away?” Madison asked hopefully. “We’ll find something. I mean, there’s gotta be some answer, somewhere” Sam insisted. “That’s not entirely true” Dean chimed in, Madison’s head snapped over to Dean.

“Madison, you deserve to know.” Dean sighed. “We’ve scoured every source. There’s just no cure, hun” Y/N stated, her tone solemn. “Are…are they right?” Madison asked Sam. Sam nodded, his expression filled with sadness. “Yeah” He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I mean, we could lock you up at night, but…you’d bust out and some night, you will. Someone else dies” Dean explained softly as Madison’s eyes filled with tears again. The room was filled with a tense silence as they all looked at Madison, whose shoulders sagged in defeat. It was a heartbreaking moment, the reality of her fate sinking in.

She knew there was no magic cure, that she was destined to hurt people as long as she lived. “I’m sorry, I am” Y/N added, shaking her head as she clutched her locket. “So, I guess that’s all there is to it, then” Madison sniffled, a single tear dropping from her eye. “Stop it. Don’t talk like that” Sam interrupted, insisting on finding a way to cure her.

“Sam, I don’t wanna hurt anyone else. I don’t wanna hurt you” Madison sobbed before taking up the gun from the table. Walking over to Sam, “Put that down” Sam shook his head as she placed the gun in his hand. “I can’t do it myself. I need you to help me” Madison pleaded, pressing the gun to her chest as Sam’s finger hovered over the trigger.

The room was a tableau of despair. Y/N's heart ached for Sam as she saw the torment in his face. Dean stood silently by, his hands clenched into fists, watching the scene unfold like a car accident that you can't tear your eyes from.

“Madison..no” Sam breathed out, the anguish clear in his voice. “Sam…I’m a monster,” Madison stated. “You don’t have to be. We can find a way, alright? I can, I’m gonna save you”

Dean, who usually kept a stoic facade, was fighting back tears. The despair was so thick in the air it was almost palpable. Sam was pleading in desperation to save her, but he was struggling to grasp the harsh truth.

“You tried. I know you tried. This is all there is left” Madison’s voice broke. “Help me, Sam. As my friend, help me” She begged. “I want you to do it. I want it to be you”

“I can't,” Sam snapped, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna die, I don’t” Madison chuckled dryly, taking a deep breath. “But I can’t live like this. This is the only way you can save me….please” She begged again. “I’m asking you to save me, Sam” Madison offered him a tearful smile.

Sam shook his head weakly as Y/N got up from her chair and stepped closer to them, prying the gun away from Madison’s hand. She gave Sam a sad look and Madison a small nod, “Go wait in the room, sweetie” She said to the woman gently.

Madison left the dining room, but as she did, you could hear her soft sobs. Y/N turned to Sam, the pain in his eyes cutting straight through her heart. He looked defeated, like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Sammy, I’m sorry” Dean cut in, the emotion clear in his voice. “No, you’re right. She’s right” Sam croaked, allowing the tears to fall freely from his eyes. “We tried everything,” Sam said, his voice filled with sadness and resignation. “We really did,” Y/N added gently. “Sammy, I got this one. I’ll do it” She assured him.

“She asked me to.” Sam shook his head, “You don’t have to” Dean assured him. Sam swallowed hard and took a deep breath, "Yes, I do” Sam's voice was hoarse from holding back tears. He then put his hand out for y/n to give him the gun. “Please”

Y/N sighed, and handed Sam the gun. “Just wait here” He croaked as he took it from her and then got up from his chair, heading towards the room where Madison was waiting. Dean and Y/N exchanged a weary, heavy look.

Sam turned to Dean and Y/N with a tear filled face before pushing himself to enter the room. As Sam shut the door behind him, they could faintly hear the murmur of voices coming from inside the room. It was difficult to make out the words, but their voices were gentle and filled with sadness.

Seeing his brother so pained broke him inside out. Y/N was not taking it lightly either, holding back her own tears along with Dean as they waited for the gunshot to ring out. Dean wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her in close as a sense of helplessness washed over him. The finality of the situation was unbearable, and he found comfort in holding onto her.

They waited in excruciating silence. After what felt like hours, they heard the sound of the gunshot. Dean and Y/N flinched, the female hunter buried her face into Dean's chest. Tears streamed down her face and she held onto him tighter, seeking comfort.

The sound of the shot rang in their ears like a death knell. For people who use guns as often as they did, it was a sound that would haunt them for a long time to come. Dean's grip involuntarily tightened around Y/N as she buried her face in his chest, seeking solace in him. He swallowed hard, his own eyes stinging with tears.

He allowed them to flow freely as he clutched his love against him, stroking her hair, not only to comfort her but also himself. It was a devastating moment, one that weighed heavily on their hearts.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: Yeah, so-😭💔 I’m so not crying *sobs into pillow* I LOVE YOU MADISON, YOU DESERVED BETTER😭😭😭

Other than that, I hope everyone enjoyed this episode, it was a sad one and I did my best to write around it because I’m a Sam and Jo stan lol.

No hate to Madison, I actually loved her and she slayed her one episode of screentime.

Lmk what you loved and what you hated. Also, that cigarette scene🫠🫠🫠

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe

Xoxo

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 2 days

Text

09/21-22/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR: David Jenkins: Cast Honks; Fan Honks; Rhys Darby; Ruibo Qian; Kristian Nairn; Vico Ortiz; Nathan Foad; Samba Schutte; Rachel House; Gypsy Taylor; Lindsey Cantrell; Articles; Fan Spotlight; amuseoffyre; Doll Normal; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

= David Jenkins =

Whelp, Chaos Dad is keeping us all on our toes still! Grats @edwarbteach for being perceived and getting answered by Dad!!

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

= Cast Honks =

Fan Honking hasn't stopped since David's last tweet-- but with the new one, we've got more cast interaction! Con is back with spreading Adopt Our Crew posts on Instagram!

Source: Con's Instagram Stories

Hugo, our darling OFMD Cheerleader is still at it. Netflix has been asking what you'd like to watch on Netflix in 2025-- What a lovely prompt for the honkening- if you haven't already, feel free to let them know!

Source: Hugo's Twitter

= Fan Honking =

The crew is really keeping at it with the honking this weekend! Some kind folks are sharing some fantastic data with everyone to help support!

Special thanks to the darling Katrina, aka kmostran over on Twitter for putting together this EXTREMELY detailed list of Cancellation/David events.

Source: Kmostran on Twitter

And as always our friend Ashley (Seven_Sugars over on twitter) has more fun data for us!

Source: Buttons (Ashley)

There's been so much fun fan-honking going on, memes, and art being created-- I just wanted to share one that caught my eye today:

Source: unpopularcult's Twitter / ramsay_b_OFMD's Twitter

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= Rhys Darby =

Outside of the clowning, we've had some Rhys sightings!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Rhys Darby (@rhysiedarby)

instagram

Rosie also put out the call for some help with getting Rhys and Rosie's son, Finn, and his band Great Big Cow some more subscribers to their Youtube channel! The goal was to hit 1,000 subscribers-- and great news, they did it! If you aren't already subscribed, and you're interested, I'm sure they wouldn't mind more! Great Big Cow Band Youtube

Source: Rosie's Twitter

= The Cryptid Factor =

There's another video of the Edinburgh Fringe Live shows on The Cryptid Factor Patreon! Night two this time!

Source: The Cryptid Factor's Patreon

= Ruibo Qian =

Our Pirate Queen Ruibo is digging her adorable shoes today <3

Source: Ruibo's Instagram

= Vico Ortiz =

Vico was interviewed by LatiNation! Check it out below!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by LatiNation Queer (@latinationqueer)

instagram

Source: Vico's Instagram

= Nathan Foad =

Nathan and friends on the tube <3

Source: Nathan's Instagram Stories

= Samba Schutte =

Samba 🤣🤣🤣

Source: Samba's Instagram

= David Fane =

Apparently it's been 20 years since the release of Bro'Town! David, Oscar Knightley, and Madeleine Sami voiced characters in the animated series back in 2004!

"A modern day fairytale about five Auckland teenagers growing up in the big bad city, bro'Town chronicles the schoolboy misadventures of Vale, Valea, Sione, Mack and Jeff da Maori in a proudly suburban, non PC satire."

David shared some videos but I couldn't fit them all on tumblr-- so here's a link to the repo with more: https://ofmd-renewal-repo.knowledgeowl.com/help/david-fane-brotown-20-year-anniversary

Source: David Fane's Instagram Stories

= Gypsy Taylor =

The fabulous Gypsy Taylor has been immortalized by our badass crewmate @amuseoffyre with a gorgeous Gypsy Muppet!

Source: Gypsy Taylor's Instagram

= Lindsey Cantrell =

Lindsey is so excited to see the tiny boats from s2 are living on!

Source: Lindsey Cantrell Instagram Stories

Also some cool news from the ofmd.buys.boats of Instagram!

Source: ofmd.buys.boats on Instagram

= Rachel House =

Rachel was interviewed by Sirius XM Canada Talks and she talks about working with Taika on Boy!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by @siriusxmcanadatalks

instagram

Source: Sirius XM Canada Talks

== Articles ==

Kristian was interviewed by Queerty and does some lovely shoutouts to Nathan! Please check the article out below, and thank you @adoptourcrew for sharing this!

Source: AdoptOurCrew Instagram

Some WB news-- Our friends over at NeverLeftPodcast shared the news! Thanks dears!

Source: Never Left Podcast Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= A Muse of Fyre =

Okay so I'm SURE you've seen the OFMD muppets around, but I got permission from the EXTREMELY talented @amuseoffyre to share them in the Recaps! I've been meaning to for weeks and then life got in the way--but Gypsy sharing her muppet seemed like the perfect time to spotlight them! If you haven't checked the OFMD Muppets out before, please oh please do! I cannot tell you just how brilliantly made and gorgeously DETAILED these are. From the intricate beads, to the facial hair, their expressions, these beautiful creations bring the OFMD Cast to life in muppet form! Every time I see them pop up on another platform, I continue to be astonished at the gorgeous craftsmanship! If you have a few minutes, please visit some of @amuseoffyre socials! Instagram especially has so many wonderful muppet posts! Thank you @amuseoffyre for bringing our beloved crew to life! More to come in upcoming recaps as there's SO MANY to see! Tumblr / Twitter / Instagram

Source: Fyre's Instagram

= Doll Normal =

Next up on tonight's fan spotlight is Doll Normal! One of our fantastic crewmates has written Netflix a song imploring them to Adopt Our Crew! This is phenomenal! Please give it a listen :) Socials: Instagram / Linktr.ee / Twitter

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Doll Normal (@doll.normal)

instagram

Source: Doll Normal's Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Wow Lovelies. What a weekend huh? Yall have been clowning/honking (however you wanna describe it) for days now and it's so incredibly uplifting to see! It feels like the beginning of the year again, all buzzing with life in the fandom!

I've seen lots of mixed emotions on the subject of renewal today, so tonight I just want to send you a couple reminders. If you aren't feeling up to Honking for any reason, whether that be that the ups and downs of the cancellation/renewal news, or you've got things going on in your life, or you just don't want to get your hopes up again-- please know, that is OKAY. If you are honking your head off, tweeting, tumbling, drawing, writing, creating, and putting your whole soul into the clowning after David's tweet on Friday -- That's OKAY too. If you're passively keeping an eye on things, waiting for news, or focused on other things-- that's also OKAY. Every single one of us experienced OFMD different from each other. Every single one of us experienced grief from the cancellation differently from one another. Every single one of us has or has not begun to heal differently. If someone is having fun honking-- that's great, keeping doing it babes! If you're feeling like you just can't bear the disappointment again if something goes wrong-- you do what you need to take care of yourself m'dears! Don't push yourself in a way that makes you feel worse. There's no wrong answer here in how to be involved in what's happening right now. Be kind to one another, and let yourself and others do their thing-- and all is well <3 No matter what happens, we're still here for you crew-- we still care. Don't feel bad for how you are coping and engaging with the fandom right now. Just be yourself. Goodnight lovelies, I hope the week ahead treats you with kindness and healing.

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

I didn't wanna miss another day of gifs-- but I'm running out of image room, so we get these two iconic dude together tonight. Gif Courtesy of @dallonismysavior!

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writingrock · 3 days

Text

the tale of two lovers [4]

pairing: barbarian! katsuki bakugou x reader (female) summary: a bard approaches a lone barbarian in search for a story to tell. Who could have known that the barbarian end up being such a romantic tale.

notes: fantasy au, fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn, bakusquad, barbarian bakugou, violence, mentions of spiritual creatures, mentions of discrimination

word count: 8.3k

part list

part one: chapter list

a/n: we're finally in the damn woods. this part took way longer than needed.

Despite your frequent clashes with Bakugou, the bond within the group had deepened over time. Each of you had gradually adapted to the others' habits and idiosyncrasies. The journey started off rocky with Bakugou and you locking horns. But this leg of the journey had been surprisingly pleasant, filled with laughter and shared stories that knitted the group closer together. Sure, you and Bakugou bickered now and then, but it never escalated to anything more than heated words— at least, not yet.

Now, as the group finally reached the last stretch before Niniel’s Veil, a sense of quiet anticipation settled over the camp. Tomorrow, you all would descend into the maddening forest. A place none of you could fully predict or prepare for. All of you are sitting by the campfire, the warmth of the flames cast flickering shadows on your faces. The night was calm, but you could feel the unmistakable worry around the group. Wrapping around each of you like the darkening forest surrounding the camp.

The group huddled close. Low chatter drifted through the night air, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or a solemn comment about the day ahead. The conversation circled around the forest that awaited them— the cursed thicket known as Niniel’s Veil.

Denki, absently poking at the fire with a stick, broke the silence. “So, anyone else feeling a bit uneasy about tomorrow?” His golden brown eyes focused on the fire, carrying an edge of nervousness.

“Tomorrow’s the big day,” Kirishima replied, his fingers fumbling with the fabric of his tunic. The idle movement showed a small part of his restlessness. He grabbed a stick and poked at the fire alongside Denki, sending a few sparks crackling into the night air. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. But we’ve faced worse, right? We just need to stick together.” There was a mix of excitement and apprehension in his voice.

Mina was sitting cross-legged next to you with a thoughtful expression. There’s a pause before she nodded in agreement. “They say the forest shifts and changes its paths. You can go in with a map and still get hopelessly lost. We’ll need to stay sharp.” She shuddered, remembering the tales she’s heard about the Veil.

Denki leaned back against a tree, casually tossing the stick he’d been using to stir the fire aside, letting it roll to a stop near the flames. He let out a heavy sigh as he verbally recounted the horror stories told about the thicket. “And the creatures that live there—supposedly, some of them are more dangerous than anything we’ve faced before.”

Sero grinned and added, “Well, if nothing else, it’ll be one hell of a story to tell. Assuming we make it out of there.” A part of you wondered how Sero could always be so pragmatic. He seemed to be the most relaxed in the group. Or was he simply hiding behind a calm exterior? You couldn’t really tell.

You looked down at the flickering flames, their light reflecting in your eyes. “It’s not just about surviving,” you said, your tone more serious. “It’s about navigating a place that seems determined to trap us there. We need to be prepared for anything.”

Mina glanced over at you, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “You’ve been through Niniel’s Veil before. Got any advice for us?”

Advice? That wasn’t something you could offer lightly. You hesitated, the weight of your previous journey through the Veil lingering in your mind. After a moment, you spoke slowly, choosing your words carefully.

“Advice isn’t easy to give for a place like that,” you began, eyes flicking to the evening sky as if it might help you find the right way to explain. Squinting at the night sky, focusing on the stars for guidance. “But… Do you guys actually know the story behind Niniel’s Veil?” Slowly, you lowered your head and looked at the group, studying their expressions.

They exchanged glances, a collective shrug rippling through the group. Denki leaned forward slightly, intrigued, while Kirishima scratched his head. Bakugou, arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. It seemed that the history of the Veil piqued his interest. Though, it wasn’t just him. One by one, they all shook their heads. You could tell everyone was at least slightly interested.

“Nope,” Denki said, letting out a resigned sigh. “Can’t say I do.”

Kirishima chuckled nervously. “I’ve heard the horror stories, but not much else.”

Bakugou’s eyes looked at you. “I’m guessing it’s more than just some foggy forest, then.”

Mina leaned forward, clearly eager to hear more. “Alright, mapmaker. Lay it on us.”

You leaned forward slightly, the firelight casting shadows across your face as you began to explain. “Niniel’s Veil wasn’t always this mysterious, cursed place. A long time ago, it was home to a powerful elven kingdom. Hidden away deep in these enchanted woods, the elves used their magic to shield themselves from the outside world. But they were… Well, they were elves.” There was a trace of disdain in your voice as you delivered that last part, the words carrying more weight than intended.

The group’s attention was locked on you now, each of them watching as you continued.

“The elves of Niniel didn’t stay within their kingdom. They pillaged and colonised other lands, stealing relics and treasures from the places they conquered. They weren’t satisfied with just wealth— they wanted power. And the more they took, the more they craved. But they were greedy, and greed doesn’t go unchecked forever.”

You paused, glancing around the fire, letting the weight of the story sink in before continuing. “Eventually, their power was usurped. The lands they’d pillaged banded together, turning on the elves. Niniel’s kingdom crumbled. But the elves… they didn’t go quietly. In their final moments, they cursed the very forest they once called home. As revenge, they scattered the stolen relics throughout the woods, using powerful magic to ensure they would never be found or returned to their rightful places.”

Mina’s eyes widened as you spoke, while Denki shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the dark woods surrounding your camp. Even Sero straightened up, leaning in closer to listen to your tale.

“And the forest itself,” you said, your voice lowering slightly, “became part of that curse. The elves wove their magic into the land, warping it. Niniel’s Veil is designed to trap people— to lure them in, twist their sense of direction, and keep them lost. The trees shift, paths disappear, and you see things that aren’t real. It’s a labyrinth, alive with ancient magic, and it wants to keep anyone who dares to enter.”

The fire crackled softly, filling the brief silence that followed.

“So, let me guess,” Kirishima spoke in a hushed tone. “Those relics are still out there?”

You nodded. “Yep. Hidden throughout the Veil. Some say finding them all could break the curse, but no one’s been able to gather them all. At least, no one who’s made it out.”

Kirishima let out a low whistle, leaning back as the weight of your words sank in. “So, we’re walking into a cursed maze with no guarantee of getting out, huh?”

“You’ve got me, that’s plenty of guarantee,” you said, your voice brimming with confidence as you glanced around the group. A small, reassuring smirk graces your lips. But deep down, you knew the danger that lay ahead.

Denki chuckled nervously, though the unease in his voice was hard to miss. “Yeah, I’m just going to cling to that optimism, because the alternative sounds pretty terrifying.”

Bakugou, who had been quiet up until now, crossed his arms and let out a questioning scoff. His brow raised at your confidence. “Talk’s cheap. You sure you’re up for this?”

You met his stare without hesitation, your voice steady. “I’ve made it through it and mapped that forest. Trust me, I’m ready. The real question is— are you?”

His eyes peered down at you. Why do you keep challenging him? He wants to be mad but he’s amused. By now, he’s gotten used to you provoking him. There’s a faint smirk that threatens to surface, but he very quickly concealed it. “I’m always ready. Don’t slow me down.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Slowing you down? You’re more likely to charge ahead and get yourself lost.”

Kirishima laughed from his spot by the fire. “Yeah, maybe stick close this time. We can’t have you lost.”

Bakugou shot him a sharp look, snapping at his friend. “I’ll do what I need to. The Veil won’t stop me.” Kirishima chuckled at his words for he could see there’s no real anger behind that cutting gaze.

“You might want to rethink that,” you said, your tone turning serious. “Niniel’s Veil isn’t exactly forgiving. It’s not just about getting lost; the forest has a way of messing with your mind. It twists paths and shadows, plays tricks on you.”

Bakugou snorted as he leaned back against the rock. “Tch. I’ve faced worse.”

Sero raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Like what?”

“Like dealing with you guys,” Bakugou muttered, finally releasing the smirk he had been holding back.

You caught the exchange with a half-smile, the tension of the upcoming challenge momentarily eased by the banter. Despite the seriousness of the situation, there was a growing sense of unity within the group. Each member brought their own strengths and quirks to the table, and as you prepared for the forest that lay ahead, it was clear that this shared journey had already forged a deeper bond among you.

As the night deepened and the conversation drifted to lighter topics, you couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation. Tomorrow, the real adventure would begin. Despite the danger that awaited, there was a sense of resolve and readiness in the air.

You watched the fire crackle, the warmth against the chill of the evening offering a small comfort. “We’ll make it through,” you said, trying to inject a bit of confidence into your voice for the group. In truth, you knew how dangerous those woods were. It was hard to say for certain if it would be smooth sailing all the time.

Bakugou huffed, a rare, soft chuckle leaving his lips. “I hope you’re right. I don’t plan on letting a bunch of trees outsmart us.”

As the night wore on, you could feel the suspense building for the journey ahead. The campfire’s warmth was a fleeting solace before the uncertainty of tomorrow. For now though, it was enough to keep the chill of apprehension at bay. Eventually, the conversation dwindled as exhaustion seeped into the group. One by one, your companions bid each other goodnight, surrendering to sleep.

But sleep had evaded you. You lay awake in the darkness, the stillness of the night amplifying the restless thoughts swirling in your mind. Insomnia wasn’t something you usually struggled with— at least, not recently. But tonight, it tightened its grip on you. It was suffocating. You tried to push those thoughts away, but it was easier said than done. With each toss in your bedroll, those plaguing thoughts only grew more persistent.

Out of all nights, it had to be tonight. But it made sense that you couldn’t sleep the night before entering Niniel’s Veil. You knew exactly what that forest meant for you. With a quiet sigh, you slipped out of your sleeping bag. Deciding that perhaps a walk might help. From your experience, a walk did usually help make you sleepier.

Carefully, you slid your feet into your boots, moving with deliberate quiet. Reaching into your bag, you retrieved three items: a book, one of your quills, and a dagger. Whenever you found yourself unable to sleep, working on some lazy sketches of the scenery helped you unwind and gave you something to focus on. So for you, a book paired with a quill became a staple for your late night walks.

The dagger spoke for itself. You never knew what could jump out in the night. As you prepared for your walk, you took great care to keep your movements as silent as possible, tiptoeing past your sleeping companions. A few of them stirred slightly, but you held your breath, not wanting to disturb their rest. Once you were far enough from camp, you exhaled softly, feeling the tension ease.

Being a cartographer, you knew most areas well. After all, drawing out those maps tended to etch locations into your memory. Especially if you particularly liked the place. As you walked through the forest, you recalled a nearby spot that had always brought you peace. Confident in your sense of direction, you walked through the darkness. Your sight at night being no issue.

The nocturnal world around you stirred as you stepped through the quiet woods, the sounds of night creatures blending with the soft rustle of leaves underfoot. There was a calmness here, a solitude you had always found comforting. As much as you had grown to appreciate the company of your party, you couldn’t deny the pull of the silence.

Perhaps it wasn’t that you preferred being alone, but that you had simply grown accustomed to it. Cartography was a solitary profession, one that few could endure for long. But for you? This is the path chosen for you from the moment you were born.

Your only true companion on these journeys had been Kyrah, your golden eagle familiar, whose presence had been invaluable in your work— a reliable partner who needed no more than a summons, carrying no extra weight. Kyrah is a familiar you manifested with the help of your father. She aids you in your mapping endeavours. You can seamlessly merge with Kyrah’s vision, often shifting your perspective to hers as she soars above, giving you a bird’s-eye view of the terrain below. Besides that, she’s a silent companion that helps quell the lonely journeys you go on.

The sound of flowing water reached your ears, and you quickened your pace, heading toward the source. Soon, the sight of a waterfall came into view, illuminated by the soft light of the moon. It wasn’t a grand waterfall, but there was a serene beauty to it, a simplicity that had always drawn you in. You settled down by a rock, the moonlight washing over you as you gazed at the waterfall, its steady flow soothing your restless mind.

The frogs croaked softly in the background as you prepared you to sketch. When you couldn’t sleep, you’d draw. Sometimes, the act of sketching was enough to lull you to sleep— the rhythmic scratch of the quill against paper, the quiet ambiance around you. You opened your book and began to draw, letting the scene before you pull you into its tranquillity.

A sudden snap broke the stillness. Your heart jumped, and you could feel a large presence behind you. What the hell was that? Sure, things might go bump in the night, especially in the forest. But this was different—a heavy snap, the kind of sound only a beast could make. You weren’t about to wait for the beast to strike first. Instinct kicked in as you twisted your upper body. Ready to make the first move, fully expecting to face the threat head on.

You could have sworn you had grabbed your dagger, but instead, you found yourself holding your quill.

And it’s pressing into a rather familiar throat.

Bakugou had leaned in close, his breath warm against your skin, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at you. His eyes glinted with amusement, the sharpness in them betraying how much he was enjoying the situation. The distance between you was almost nonexistent, the tension palpable. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly under the quill’s pressure, a subtle reminder of how precarious the moment was. Yet he seemed unfazed, confident even, as if daring you to make the next move.

Bakugou raised an eyebrow at your choice of weapon. A shit-eating smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. You wanted so badly to rub that smirk off. “A quill? Really?” There was a mocking edge to his tone. “You can try, but it won’t do much.”

You narrowed your eyes, clearly unamused by this situation. “Could’ve sworn I had a dagger.”

He responded by waving the dagger in front of your face, the blade catching the light before he dropped it carelessly to the ground. “You mean this one?” his voice dripping with condescension. “You ought to be more aware.”

You scoffed, pressing the quill harder against his throat, the tip leaving a faint mark of ink on his skin. “What are you doing here?” Your voice was steady, but the rush of adrenaline still coursed through you. As the question left your lips, you retracted the quill and leaned back against the rock, letting your body relax. The immediate sense of danger faded, but the tension between you and Bakugou lingered.

He didn’t move, his gaze locked on you as he slowly lowered himself onto a nearby rock, keeping a deliberate distance. “I could ask you the same,” he replied, his tone more measured now. “You woke me up. Care to be less noisy?”

He was a light sleeper—not a surprise there. You’ve learnt that during the time you’ve spent with this group. “Could’ve gone back to sleep,” you retorted, your tone dismissive. “What’s your deal?”

Bakugou glared at you, his expression hardening. “My deal? You’re the one sneaking around in the middle of the night, waving a quill like it’s some kind of weapon.”

You let out a short, dry laugh. “You stole my dagger, you imbecile.”

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Whatever. So what? You couldn’t sleep, so you decided to wander around and wake everyone up?”

You shrugged, avoiding his eyes as you looked out into the forest. “Just needed to clear my head. Walking helps sometimes.”

“Hmph.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Not the best idea out here, alone.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you muttered, half to yourself.

There’s a silence falling between you, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. The tension from your earlier confrontation lingered, though it had softened, replaced by something almost... tolerable. It was strange— how the two of you, so different in temperament and approach, could share a moment like this. You never would have expected to be sitting here with him, of all people, in the middle of the night. You studied his profile, the sharp angles of his face softened by the dim light.

Bakugou finally broke the silence, his voice quieter, less abrasive. "You worried about tomorrow?"

You’re caught off guard by the unexpected question. Was he worried too? "A bit. Niniel’s Veil isn’t exactly a stroll in the woods. But you’re all a strong bunch, so... we’ll manage."

He grunted in agreement, his gaze fixed on the darkened trees. "We’d better. There’s no room for mistakes."

You nodded, the weight of his words settling in. There was no room for error in a place like Niniel’s Veil. A pause followed, a moment of silence where neither of you said anything. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad that he was here. You needed to talk to him about the artefact he was searching for. You never did get the specifics. Taking a short breath, you looked at the barbarian.

“This artefact you’re looking for… do you know where it is within the Veil?” you asked, the weight of the question hanging in the air. As their guide, it was crucial you had this information, and you were kicking yourself for not asking sooner. But the right moment had never seemed to come until now. In all fairness, you could blame it on Bakugou. From the beginning, holding a decent conversation with him was nearly impossible— constant arguing, back and forth. Now at least, you’ve both learned to deal with each other.

Bakugou’s eyes flickered to yours, wearing a mask of gruff determination. “I’ve got a lead,” he said, his voice rough but edged with a hint of irritation. “A place deep within the Veil, near the heart of it. But don’t get your hopes up too high. I heard the Veil shifts around like it’s got a personal vendetta against anyone trying to navigate it.” He’s not wrong about the Veil.

With a deep breath, Bakugou recited the riddle. His tone as if he were delivering bad news:

“In the forest’s heart where shadows loom,

Find the place where night flowers bloom.

Beneath the boughs where moonlight glows,

The artefact rests where the dark wind blows.”

You raised an eyebrow, struggling to stifle a laugh. “Seriously? That’s the hint? Sounds like a poetic way to say ‘good luck.’”

With a frustrated sigh, he squeezed his eyes shut. His hand ran through his hair as he recited the riddle internally. Bakugou didn’t have any other hints besides this riddle. “Better than wandering around aimlessly, right? Just don’t get lost yourself.”

You nodded, understanding the gravity of his words. “We’ll have to be careful then,” you said, your tone matching the seriousness of the situation. “No reckless moves.” You most certainly weren’t referring to a certain blond hothead.

Bakugou’s eyes snapped back to you, looking rather annoyed. Seems like he’s caught on that you were referring to him. “Tch, don’t tell me what to do,” he barked, his voice edged with irritation. “I don’t need you hovering over me.”

He crossed his arms, clearly not thrilled by your little jab. “You focus on keeping yourself out of trouble. I don’t make reckless moves— I make results.”

Was he offended? You smirked, holding back a laugh. “I’ll be the one pulling your ass out of there when things go south.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, but there was an underlying smirk under that scowl. “Tch. We’ll see about that.”

The exchange lingered in the air, a mix of challenge and mutual respect. Whatever lay ahead in the Veil, you both understood the risks— and neither of you was backing down. Silence settled over the two of you, a comfortable quiet that neither felt the need to disrupt. You returned to your sketch, the soft scratch of your quill against the parchment a calming rhythm. Bakugou, seated beside you, methodically sharpened his scimitar. The metallic scrape of the blade meeting the stone punctuated the night air, creating a soothing harmony with your drawing.

“You don’t like elves,” Bakugou observed, his tone curious but cautious. His words cut through the quiet, catching your attention. You slowly turn to look at him. He noticed your tone when you were reciting the tale of Niniel’s Veil. He was trying to piece something together. He was curious as to why your tone held such detest for elves. A species that you’re related to by blood.

“My perspective on elves are complicated,” you replied, your voice steady but held a lining of spite within. “Besides, most of the continent don’t really like elves.”

“Right, but you’re a half-elf,” he pressed, trying to make sense of it. He hadn’t dealt with many elves before, only knowing them by their reputation— proud, conceited, and, in his limited experience, annoyingly uptight. A prudish bunch, as he calls it. But you’re a half-elf, an extension of their kind, so why do you hate them?

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “Most elves hate half-elves, you know,” you said, the weight of the truth heavy in your words. “They call us Biir and N' Tel' Quess.”

The Elvish language slipped smoothly off your tongue, the sharpness of the words hanging in the air between you. The fluency of those words caught Bakugou off guard. He wasn’t used to hearing you speak the language, and even though he didn’t understand the words, he could hear the bitterness beneath them.

Bakugou raised an eyebrow, waiting for the translation.

“Garbage,” you said plainly, meeting his gaze. “And Not-People, that’s how they view us.”

For a moment, there was silence. Bakugou’s expression didn’t soften, but you could see a shift in his eyes. A flicker of understanding, maybe even anger at the idea. Bakugou couldn’t stand hearing that. Most would assume dragonborns were fearsome and overbearing, but in reality, they were often tolerant of all races. Extending their courtesy for even the most despised. For him, this was unacceptable. Sure, Bakugou berated most people who crossed his path, but it was more out of indifference rather than malice. He simply couldn’t be bothered with them. To hate due to blood was foreign to him.

It didn’t make sense to him— judging someone for something they had no control over felt pointless, even absurd. In his eyes, strength, character, and actions were what truly mattered, not the circumstances of one’s birth.

It reminded him of the situation with Mina. Being a tiefling in this world wasn’t easy. The hatred toward her kind stemmed from their demonic ancestry, creating a deep-rooted wave of mistrust and fear. Tieflings were often judged before they even spoke, their horns and eyes marking them as something to be wary of, something dangerous. To be one of the most hated races was a heavy burden, and Mina carried it with a grace that most wouldn’t expect.

“Those stuck-up bastards,” he muttered, his hands tightening into fists. “Calling their own that? Figures.”

You shrugged, the casualness of your attitude not quite matching the weight of the conversation. “It’s nothing new. That’s just how most of them are. Especially if they've not travelled outside of elven lands.”

Bakugou's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. “So they just… call you that like it’s nothing?”

You nodded, a trace of bitterness creeping into your voice. “To them, it’s not a big deal. Half-elves are reminders of what they consider impurity and grief. That our blood is tainted. We don’t fit neatly into their perfect little world.”

The dislike for half-elves is often a complicated mix of prejudice and resentment. You could dive into the history, recite what your father told you growing up, but that would keep you here all night. Half-elves symbolise something uncomfortable: the idea that elves and humans can cohabitate and create something together. To many elves, it’s a bitter reminder that their kind— whom they see as superior— could stoop so low as to bed a human, a race they often view as fleeting and inferior.

But the resentment runs deeper than just arrogance. Elves live for centuries, and their ability to reproduce is rare and sacred. Their culture involves tight-knit communities and communal child-rearing, with children being raised by the collective village or family over generations. Half-elves, however, live only slightly longer than humans, which more often than not, means the elven parent suffers.

The elven parent must watch their human spouse and child age and die before they've even reached the prime of their own life, by elven standards. For every half-elf born, there’s an elven parent who will grieve long after their family has turned to dust. To them, half-elf serves as living proof that bonding with other races, no matter how deep the connection, is temporary— and that loss comes far too soon.

So while some elves can look past it, seeing half-elves as a bridge between worlds rather than crude blood. Others see the inevitable grief, the reminder that friendship— and love— across races comes at a cost that some are not willing to pay.

Bakugou grumbles under his breath, the disdain clear in his tone now. “What a bunch of self-righteous assholes. Fucking hell.”

You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his bluntness. “Yeah, well, most of them are. It’s a complicated issue but it doesn’t excuse their treatment towards us. ” You take a deep breath from this conversation, continuing quietly. “But I don’t let it bother me. There are still a good bunch of elves that don’t have that terrible view.”

Bakugou grunted, crossing his arms. “Tch. Still doesn’t sit right with me. Doesn’t matter if it’s a few or most— people who think they’re better than everyone else just because of blood? Sounds like a load of crap.”

“Agreed,” you nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “But it’s not that simple. Some of those elves are deeply entrenched in their ways, raised to believe they’re the highest form of existence. They don’t even see it as arrogance— they see it as fact.”

Bakugou's expression hardened, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes. “Fact or not, I think they deserve a reality check just for using those words.”

You gave him a small, appreciative smile. “Trust me, I’ve handed out a few of those in my time.”

Bakugou smirked at that, the familiar edge of his cockiness creeping back. “Good. ‘Cause if they try pulling that shit while I’m around, they’ll get their ass handed to them.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I can imagine. But you’d be surprised— some of the elves that look down on half-elves would probably never confront you openly. It’s all under-the-surface jabs, subtle insults. They’re too proud to start a fight.”

Bakugou’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “I’m good at starting fights when it’s needed. And ending them.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” you said with a grin. If there’s one thing Bakugou can do, it’s fight. “But like I said, not all of them are bad. Some have moved past those old prejudices. It’s just… a slow change. Too slow, honestly.”

He glanced at you, his expression softening slightly, though his usual fire was still there. “Well, whatever they think, they’re wrong. You’re better than all of ‘em.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, the weight of his words hung between you, and it felt more real than anything you had expected from Bakugou. You smiled softly, your tone quiet but genuine. “Thanks..”

Bakugou shifted awkwardly, clearly not used to moments like this. He grunted, scratching the back of his neck as if trying to brush off the vulnerability that had slipped through. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Right. Wouldn’t want to ruin your tough guy act.”

After a few moments, Bakugou shifted in his seat, the sound of his movements breaking the silence. He stood up, brushing off his pants with an unceremonious gesture. “Get some sleep,” he grumbled, his tone carrying a rare hint of concern. “We’ll need everyone sharp tomorrow.”

You nodded, pushing your sketchbook aside. “Fair point.” You began packing away your sketching supplies. “I’ll hit the hay. Just try not to snore too loudly. Some of us actually need our rest.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed playfully. “As if you’re one to talk. I’ve heard the way you mumble in your sleep.”

With that, the two of you headed back toward the camp. The mood was lighter, though it was more than just a shared understanding of the challenge ahead. Your relationship with Bakugou was more akin to a "strained alliance," an uneasy truce bound by necessity rather than genuine rapport.

But you can’t lie, you’re almost starting not to mind him as much. Bakugou’s not that bad. Especially after you opened up about your experience with elves. It was rather warming to see him care. As you both settled back into your respective spots, the night took on a lighter tone, if only slightly.

The tavern was a far cry from the stillness of that night, but the firelight flickering against the walls reminded Bakugou of the campfires they had shared deep in the forest. He leans back in his chair, his scowl softening as the bard, a curious sort with an annoying penchant for digging into people’s thoughts, strummed a gentle tune on his lute. The tavern was buzzing with quiet conversation, but the bard’s attention was squarely on Bakugou, eyes gleaming with interest.

“It sounds like you and your companion have had quite the journey.” the bard said, his fingers deftly dancing across the strings.

Bakugou leaned back, crossing his arms, a hint of annoyance flashing in his eyes as he regarded the bard. “Yeah, well, it’s been a rough ride, but we’ve managed. Gotten used to each other’s ways, I guess.”

The bard’s eyes shined with mischief. “Oh? From what I hear, it sounds like you two have grown quite close. Almost like... friends, dare I say?”

Bakugou’s scowl deepened, though a hint of a smirk almost could be seen. The bard wasn’t exactly wrong but he wasn’t going to admit that. “Don’t get any funny ideas. We’ve had our share of disagreements. It’s more like we’ve learned to tolerate each other.”

The bard chuckled, clearly enjoying Bakugou’s discomfort. “Tolerate, you say? Sounds like there’s more to it than meets the eye.”

Bakugou’s gaze drifted to the fire, his thoughts returning to the journey. The memory of the initial tension with you was still fresh in his mind. It’s a shocking contrast to the relationship you both now had developed. He remembered the bickering and stubborn clashes, the way you both were constantly at each other's necks. But the forced cooperation in the face of danger and necessity, had brought the two of you closer. Close enough to know there was more beneath the surface than either let on. And close enough to know that both of you were skilled in your own ways.

“She’s smart, I’ll give her that,” Bakugou continues, his gaze shifting to the other end of the tavern. As if he could still see her sitting across from him, sketching with that damn quill of hers. “Knows her stuff. More than I expected, to be honest. Thought she’d be dead weight, but… she pulled her own.”

The bard’s fingers pause on the strings, catching the slight shift in Bakugou’s tone. “Sounds like she earned your respect.”

Bakugou huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Respect’s a strong word. She’s competent, that’s all. Doesn’t take shit from anyone, and I can respect that much. But she’s also a pain in the ass. Always has to have the last word, always poking where she shouldn’t.”

“She’s not what I expected. That’s all. She’s got guts, I’ll give her that. But the Veil—” He trails off, his thoughts drifting to the dense, dangerous forest. “The Veil isn’t a place for anyone who isn’t serious. She’s not just a mapmaker. She’s… stubborn. Determined. Like she’s got something to prove.”

“Well then,” the bard asks, his voice softer now. “Did she prove it?”

Did you prove yourself? Bakugou leans back in his chair, his mind drifting to the treacherous journey through Niniel’s Veil. The tales weren’t just stories; they were warnings wrapped in the guise of myths. The forest was alive in its own eerie way, shifting and twisting the paths like a serpent coiling around its prey. One moment, a well-trodden trail would be beneath their feet, and the next, it would vanish, swallowed by the creeping undergrowth, leaving only an expanse of unfamiliar trees.

The canopy overhead was dense, allowing slivers of light to filter through, but it was never enough to guide the way. The forest itself seemed to breathe, each exhale rearranging the landscape, turning known routes into mazes. More than once, they found themselves doubling back, only to be confronted by a landscape that had entirely changed. It was a place designed to ensnare even the most experienced adventurers, to make them doubt their every step.

But you— well, you were the wild card. The mapmaker who had spent years navigating the labyrinthine trails of Niniel’s Veil, sketching its hidden secrets and charting its treacherous paths.

The moment the group stepped into the forest, it was as if the air itself shifted. The dense canopy overhead seemed to close in, casting an ethereal glow that made the forest feel alive, almost sentient. The ancient trees whispered secrets with every rustle of their leaves. The ground beneath was a patchwork of shadow and light, where every step seemed to echo with a haunting resonance. The forest was beautiful in a way that was both mesmerising and unnerving. Its beauty tainted by an ever-present sense of foreboding.

Bakugou had learned the hard way that these woods weren’t just any ordinary enchanted forest. They were alive. The moment the group entered the Veil, you took the lead cautiously, moving slower than usual. You would stop now and then, listening carefully, scanning the trees for any signs of change. But Bakugou didn't get it. He was growing irritated, impatience festering with each step. To him, it felt like you were wasting time.

“You’re taking too long,” he muttered, frustration clear in his voice as you paused once again to survey the surroundings. This felt like a familiar conversation.

You shot him a look over your shoulder, keeping your voice low. “There’s a reason we’re moving carefully. This forest isn’t what it seems. Don’t rush ahead.”

Bakugou’s scowl deepened. “You’re being too slow. We’ll never get anywhere at this pace.” It’s almost as if he’s said these words before.

You sighed, feeling his impatience radiating off him in waves. “This isn’t about speed. If you push too far ahead, you’ll—”

“Whatever,” Bakugou cut you off, stepping forward, brushing past you. “We don’t have time for this.” He marched ahead, determined to lead, his movements quick and brash.

You watched him go, letting out a frustrated breath but deciding not to stop him. Fine, you thought. If he wanted to lead, let him. He’d figure it out soon enough.

The group followed Bakugou as he charged forward, the dense trees swallowing them up in winding paths that twisted and turned unexpectedly. The deeper you went, the more the forest seemed to close in, the air growing thicker, the sounds of birds and insects fading into an eerie quiet.

Bakugou’s frustration only grew as the terrain became more difficult to navigate. What had seemed like a straightforward path quickly revealed itself to be a maze of dense underbrush and looping trails. He stopped abruptly, looking around as if trying to piece together where he had gone wrong, his jaw clenched tight.

“Tch,” he growled, his hands tightening into fists. What the hell is this? His head swung around at the environment, scanning the area. “This doesn’t make sense.”

You hung back, casually following along with no rush. Your expression calm despite the increasingly tense atmosphere. You had known this would happen. The forest was designed to confuse those who didn’t understand its nature, and Bakugou, with all his confidence, was falling right into its trap.

“Having fun up there?” you called out, unable to resist a smirk as Bakugou’s head whipped around to glare at you.

“Shut up,” he snapped. “This damn forest keeps twisting around.”

“Imagine that,” you said dryly, still not speeding up. “It’s almost like there was a reason I told you to slow down.”

Bakugou huffed, visibly irritated but too stubborn to admit he was lost. His eyes darted around the trees, looking for anything familiar, but the forest had swallowed up any trace of the path you had entered on. His frustration grew with every step.

“Keep going,” you said casually, still following at a distance. “I’m sure we’re almost there.”

Bakugou shot you a withering glare, knowing full well that you were letting him stew in his own mess. “Don’t think this is funny.”

“I don’t,” you said, trying to hide the amusement in your tone. “But maybe next time, you’ll think twice before charging ahead.”

Bakugou was visibly agitated now, his annoyance clear in every sharp movement and muttered curse under his breath. The deeper he ventured, the more disorienting the forest became. The trees seemed to close in tighter, their branches tangling above like a web that blocked out the sun. The path— if you could even call it that— had long disappeared into the twisting undergrowth. Every direction looked the same, and Bakugou could swear that no matter which way he turned, they weren’t making any progress. It was as if the forest itself was looping endlessly.

His frustration mounted as he realised he couldn’t find anything that might resemble an exit. But the only thing that greeted him was the endless stretch of green. He stopped abruptly, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, kicking at a nearby rock before turning back toward you. You were still a few paces behind, walking leisurely as if the forest’s tricks didn’t bother you in the slightest. It grated on his nerves even more.

He finally snapped. “Alright, fine. Take over.” His tone could barely contain his frustration. “You’re the one who thinks you know this place.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms casually. “Only if you admit you were wrong.”

That ticked him off immediately. Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, the refusal already forming on his lips. “What?”

“Simple,” you said, a small smirk playing on your face. “Admit you messed up, and apologise for not listening. Then, I’ll get us out of here.”

Bakugou’s jaw tightened, his pride practically oozing out of him as he struggled to keep his temper in check. “Like hell I’m apologising,” he growled. “We’re in this mess because we’re moving too damn slow, not because of me.”

You shrugged, unbothered by his anger. “Alright, then keep going. I’m sure we’ll find a way out… eventually.” You glanced around the dense forest with a mocking innocence, as if the overgrown labyrinth wasn’t a problem at all. “Or not.”

Bakugou’s knuckles grew white, his frustration reaching its peak. He turned away, muttering curses under his breath, refusing to give in. But with each step, the forest only seemed to become more twisted, the trees looming larger, the path disappearing further into the shadows.

After a few more agonising minutes, he stopped again, exasperation etched across his face. He glanced over his shoulder at you, the words sticking in his throat.

You raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Bakugou gritted his teeth, his voice a low growl. “Fine. I was wrong.”

You tilted your head, pretending not to hear. “Sorry, what was that?”

He shot you a glare so sharp it could’ve cut through the trees. “I said I was wrong. Now, will you stop screwing around and get us out of here?”

You smiled, finally stepping forward to take the lead. “Was that so hard?” you teased, earning another growl from Bakugou. But this time, he stayed silent, begrudgingly following as you began to lead them out of the forest’s confusing maze.

“Don’t worry,” you added over your shoulder, still wearing that smug grin. If you weren’t the guide, he might have wiped that grin off with a punch. “Next time, you can leave the leading to me.”

Your last words grinded his gears. Bakugou clenched his jaw tight as if physically restraining himself from barking back. He could’ve sworn he was going to snap you in half right then and there, but he held back. As infuriating as you were, a nagging realisation settled in his mind: they were lucky you had tagged along. Begrudgingly lucky, but lucky all the same.

You paused for a moment, surveying the dense woods with a practised eye, before you began guiding the group through with an effortless ease that made Bakugou’s earlier confidence seem laughable.

Somehow— and Bakugou still couldn’t wrap his head around it— you led the group to a completely different section of the forest. It wasn’t long before the forest’s suffocating maze seemed to lift, and the trees thinned. Bakugou watched as the scenery changed in disbelief. Unable to figure out how you’d managed to navigate a forest that had him twisted in circles. You just had to be a smart ass didn’t you?

The air felt lighter here, the trees taller and less oppressive. The sunlight trickled through the branches in a way that felt oddly peaceful. It was as if you had simply known the right path all along, and Bakugou couldn’t deny that it both impressed and annoyed him.

“You got the forest in your head or something?” he grumbled as they walked, trying to mask his grudging respect with irritation. “Or just dumb luck?”

You shot him a sidelong glance, an amused smirk plastered on your mouth. “Nah. Some of us just pay attention.”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed, folding his arms. “Like I don’t pay attention.”

“Not to the right things, apparently,” you teased, your voice light with sarcasm. “But hey, can’t blame you for getting lost. It happens when you’re too busy charging ahead.”

Bakugou’s eye twitched, his pride bruised, but he refused to let you have the last word. “Yeah, well, next time, don’t take so damn long, and maybe I won’t have to charge ahead.”

You chuckled, enjoying the banter far more than you should. “Or maybe next time, you can just trust me from the start and save yourself the headache.”

Bakugou shot you a glare, the fire still in his eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. “Trust? You?” He huffed, shaking his head. “You wish.”

“Come on, you know I’m right,” you said, grinning. “If I didn’t bail you out, you’d probably still be wandering around in circles.”

Bakugou’s jaw tightened again. He wasn’t going to admit to that. “I’ll get it next time,” he growled, his voice low. “Give me a day and I’ll figure it out.”

“Right,” you replied with a chuckle. “Like how you ‘figured out’ the forest back there?”

He was tempted to send a fireball flying your way. “Shut up.” But deep down, he couldn’t deny the truth of your words. You had saved them time, even if it bruised his ego to admit it. Bakugou might not like relying on anyone, but he knew now that you weren’t just dead weight on this journey. Even if he didn’t say it out loud.

“Well,” you said after a moment, glancing at him with a smirk. “Apology accepted.”

Bakugou glared at you, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You’re pushing it.”

You laughed again, and for a brief second, even Bakugou couldn’t help the slight curve of a smile that tugged at his lips, though it was gone as quickly as it came. Despite his frustration, Bakugou couldn’t deny that you had proven yourself. Maybe, just maybe, there was something to be said for listening to you every once in a while. Only maybe.

You weren’t the only one who had to prove themselves on this journey. Bakugou, despite his rough exterior and temper, had shown you that he was far more than some brash barbarian. When it mattered, he actually listened to you. You remembered how shocked you were when he considered your advice for the first time. That alone was impressive, though not entirely surprising. You have always known that he had a sharp mind behind those fiery eyes. He was someone who knew when to comply for the sake of the mission. But what did catch you off guard was how unexpectedly soft he could be.

Bakugou was guarded, always projecting an imposing figure, a man who never let his guard down. But you noticed the small moments when that armour cracked. In the way he bantered with his friends, how his laughter turned genuine when he was with them. He wasn’t just their leader; he was their friend. No matter how many times he’s complained about needing to take care of such a hopeless bunch. He truly cared.

You saw it when Sero got scratched by a dryad— Bakugou had lunged in without a second thought, his only concern being his friend’s safety. Afterwards, he chewed Sero out for being careless. And when Kirishima had tripped and hit the ground hard, Bakugou was the first to reach him, his hand outstretched, his voice stiffened with concern. Admittedly, he also made fun of his dragonborn companion for tripping but there was warmth in it. His care always came with a bite.

There was a softness to him, a deep-seated loyalty and care for his companions that he kept hidden beneath layers of bravado and aggression. It’s as if his tough facade sometimes melts away in their presence, revealing a side of him that’s rarely seen. It was something you hadn’t expected from him, and it left you wondering just how much more there was to Katsuki Bakugou than what he let on.

This softer side of Bakugou was revealed in the midst of battle. As you fought off a group of thorn wolves, you found yourself preoccupied with one particularly vicious beast. Your focus was on fending off the thorn wolves in front of you, but a sudden growl from behind warned you of a new threat.

Before you could react, Bakugou’s figure appeared, crashing into the fray. His greatsword swung at the thorn wolf. Sending the wolf sprawling before he then turned to face you.

“Watch your back!” he snapped, his tone was clearly irritated with you. But there was something softer underneath.

You glared at him. Fine, he saved the skin of your back right there but you rather not be indebted to him. You probably could have handled it. “I had it under control.”

Bakugou huffed, eyes flashing with annoyance. “What did you say about us being in over our heads in this again?”

You raised an eyebrow, dodging another swipe from a thorn wolf. Did he really remember your words from the first meeting? “Didn’t realise you were so invested in proving me wrong.”

He let out a grunt. His expression remained focused on the fight, but there was a glint of something like amusement— or was it satisfaction?— in his eyes. “Just trying to keep you from getting yourself killed. We need you to get us out of this mess.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with the chaos of the battle. “Good to know you care.”

Bakugou snorted, shoving another wolf away. “I don’t care about you.”

You nodded, falling back into the rhythm of the fight, Bakugou's presence a reassuringly fierce force at your side. Even amidst the danger, his unexpected softness was a reminder that there was more to him than met the eye. While you’d always been confident in your own abilities, it was oddly reassuring to know that he’d be there, watching your six, just as you’d be watching his.

After the fight, the group busied themselves with tending to the light scratches and wounds they’d sustained. The injuries were minor, nothing that wouldn’t heal in a few days. Especially with your healing hands. You leaned against a tree, studying the compass in your hands, trying to keep your focus off the persistent, prickly sensation of being watched.

When you finally looked up, you found Bakugou’s gaze locked on you. It wasn’t the kind of stare that made you uncomfortable— he wasn’t leering. Instead, his eyes were sharp and focused, scanning your body with a meticulous intensity. It was clear he was checking you for any signs of injury, a gesture that was surprisingly thoughtful coming from him.

“Worried?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bakugou’s face flushed slightly, his irritation evident as he snapped his attention away from you and back to the rest of the group. “As if.” he huffed, his tone gruff but carrying a hint of something softer underneath.

You watched him retreat into his usual brusque demeanour, a faint smile tugging at your lips. It seemed like he had his own way of showing concern, and as much as he tried to hide it. The journey was far from over, and the Veil still held its secrets. But in that moment, you understood him a little better. Whatever lay ahead, you’d face it together, even if you had to drag Bakugou kicking and screaming the whole way.

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a/n: personally, i loved the lil midnight chat with bakugou wbu? @chocogoldie @l0kisbitch @devils-adversary @miikii0 @onlyisaa @sleepisfortheweakpooh

border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight

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heavenlytouches · 2 days

Note

I'd love to see Emmett bringing his human gf to meet his family. She and Rose get along already as she has a little 1 yr old that Rose gets to coo over. 💖 I can see Alice buying ALL the outfits too lol! Please and thank you!

Hello love! Thank you so so much for a request and thank you for adding this adorable gif TwT. Let's jump in and meet Cullens, shall we? ^^ El <3

Emmett Cullen- one of us

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

FEM reader

<3 (SFW)

TW-none

Meeting your boyfriends family ^^

Reader has a lil' baby :3

Emmett Cullen

The rain pattered gently against the windowpane, a soft symphony that filled the air of the Cullen home. Outside, the usual gray skies of Forks loomed heavy, but inside the grand house, there was a warmth that belied the chill.

You peered nervously around the spacious living room, your heart fluttering like a caged bird. Today was the day you would meet Emmett’s family, the infamous Cullens—and you had no idea what to expect.

Emmett stood beside you, his muscular arm brushed against yours as if to anchor you to the moment. He flashed you that charming, toothy grin that made your heart race. His presence exuded both strength and warmth, and his laughter had a sweetness that lulled your anxiety.

“Relax, babe! They’re going to love you.”

He reassured, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

“And trust me, Rosalie already likes you, it’s basically a done deal.”

Emmett’s sister Rosalie was known for her beauty and a no-nonsense attitude, but you had already connected with her through brief conversations.

The way she cooed and fawned over your one-year-old—gently combing her fingers through the tiny baby’s hair—revealed a softer side that you found enchanting.

As you waited, the door creaked open, allowing a shadow to spill into the room. Alice bounded in, her petite figure a whirl of energy. She spotted you immediately and squealed with delight.

“There she is! The beautiful human who stole my brother’s heart!”

Alice exclaimed, her voice like bells. She rushed over, enveloping you in a warm hug before stepping back to take you in.

“And look at your little one!”

With a gleeful shriek, she turned her attention to the baby nestled in your arms, her dark eyes glinting with affection.

“Oh, I need to buy her ALL the outfits! Wait I think mom has something from when I was a baby-”

She declared, her hands already reaching for imaginary fabric swatches as she dove into fashion fantasies.

You couldn’t help but laugh at Alice’s enthusiasm. Her excitement was contagious, your anxiety slowly melting away.

“She has enough clothes, but thank you so much.”

You chided playfully, cradling your baby closer.

Just then, Rosalie entered with a soft breeze, her presence immediately commanding attention. She glided across the room, all grace and poise. But when she reached your side, her demeanor softened, and you felt her genuine warmth.

“Hello dear, wow you look so beautiful today”

Rosalie cooed, glancing up at you with sincerity in her eyes.

You smiled and felt your cheeks flush.

“Thank you, Rosalie.”

Her approval meant the world, and you could see why Emmett adored her.

As more of the Cullen clan trickled in, including Carlisle, Edward, Jasper and Esme with their welcoming smiles, the atmosphere of camaraderie enveloped you.

Each member of the family shared little quirks that made you feel like a part of their peculiar world.

With every passing moment, laughter filled the air. You told stories about your life as Emmett teased you in affectionate ways, giving his siblings a glimpse into the human experience you cherished.

The living room transformed into a cozy hub of shared laughter and warm glances. Rosalie, who had perched next to you with your baby on her lap, regaled everyone with tales of motherhood that you had never imagined coming from her.

Alice was right there, capturing every precious moment with a quick snap of her camera, while Jasper stood off to the side, content to absorb the joy around him with a smile.

“Let me tell you, taking care of a little one is like preparing for a battle. They have these tiny weapons called tantrums.”

Rosalie said with a mock seriousness, sending everyone into fits of laughter again.

You chuckled, sharing in the warmth of the moment. As you looked around, you felt an overwhelming sense of belonging rush over you. This strange family, these vampires who moved in shadows and light, felt closer than you ever imagined they could.

Suddenly, Emmett cleared his throat dramatically, silencing the room.

“I propose a toast-”

He declared, lifting an imaginary glass.

“To my gorgeous girlfriend and her equally adorable daughter! May they both shine brighter than the sun!”

You blushed, glancing down at your baby who giggled at her father’s antics, her laughter harmonious with the family’s supportive cheers. Each member followed suit, sharing warm sentiments about you, a flood of love that made your heart swell.

As the evening wore on, you caught moments of quiet intimacy with Emmett. He would sneak in small kisses and whispered compliments, adding to the warmth bubbling inside you.

“Can you believe this is really happening?”

He murmured, leaning close.

“You’re amazing, you know that? I can’t wait for more days like this.”

His words filled you with joy, and as you gazed into his loving eyes, you felt a connection that seemed to penetrate the boundaries of time and space.

Later, when the rain poured harder outside, creating a soothing cadence against the windows, Alice cornered you again, her playful demeanor ever-present.

“I think Rosalie and I should take you shopping tomorrow—after all, you and your baby need to be the best-dressed in Forks!”

You grinned at the idea, the thought of spending time with Alice and Rosalie bringing you a sense of eagerness.

“That sounds like a lot of fun!”

As the night concluded, you felt enveloped in comfort, the weight of the world slipping away. You looked around at the family who had welcomed you with open arms and felt grateful in every sense.

Outside, the rain began to taper off, and a sliver of moonlight broke through the clouds, casting a soft glow on the house. You realized that this was just the beginning of an incredible journey, one that would intertwine your life with Emmett's and his beautiful family—a tapestry woven in love, laughter, and a tiny bit of chaos.

With a smile on your face and warmth in your heart, you knew you had found your place in this twilight realm—forever cherished in the embrace of love and family.

This one was pure fluff and family love! I adore soft Cullens, that's way too pure for my soul TwT

I hope y'all liked this one ^^

Don’t forget, requests are always open and I can write for any character you’d like!

I love you guys so much <33

El <3

(all images were made by: El via canva & paint)

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ameliemaaaee · 2 days

Text

The Silent Witness - Oneshot Series

(2) How you Become an Agent

Chapter Information Summary: With a sudden career change underway you find yourself enraveled in a case that's more than personal for the BAU. Content Warnings: S6/7 Spoilers, Doyle Arc Spoilers, Canon Violence/Gore, Awkward!Reader & Spencer, Betraya/Lies. Word Count: 9,504.

Story Masterlist - (1) - (2)

You were extremely glad the long day was coming to an end. The lab-techs were arriving to clean the morgue for the evening, and you were ready to happily retire to your apartment for the night, where you would remain on-call until the morning.

You quickly bustled around your small desk, your body on autopilot as you cleaned up the files and packed up your belongings.

You were pulled out of your reverie by the shrill ringing of your telephone. You began to irrationally panic, dropping the stack of files onto your chair as quickly as possible, not wanting to keep the caller waiting.

Once you finally had free hands and lifted the receiver you were met with a familiar voice you couldn’t help smiling at.

“Hi Y/N, it’s Agent Hotchner from the BAU.” You couldn’t help but smile at the vaguely familiar voice.

“Yes, to what do I owe the pleasure, agent?”

“I actually have a couple questions. I need a consult.”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem... fire away!”

“We have an agent who is in some trouble at the moment…” You hum down the receiver to indicate to Hotch you were listening.

“… she’s being transferred into WITSEC, but in order for that transition to raise no questions, she needs to ‘die’.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You say, your tone taking an even and professional edge.

“She was seriously injured in an encounter with an UnSub, and sent to hospital, where she was then airlifted to another and stabilised. I can’t disclose much more, but I was wondering if a post-mortem report would be necessary?”

“Okay, well most hospitals conduct post-mortems on their patients if they die in their care. And these are supposed to be easily accessible to the friends and family of the deceased. So, I would say that if you’re trying to cover all bases it would be a necessary move.”

“How would I go about that?” You twirl your hair around your finger, deep in thought.

“If you email me over her patient file, I can sign off on a PM report for you? I’m obviously totally excluded from this case, and you would need her consent to share the files, but I’m totally covered legally for that type of thing.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Absolutely not. Not if it lifts a weight off your shoulders, plus I can do PM reports in my sleep.”

You hear Agent Hotchner chuckle through the phone at this.

“That would be greatly appreciated doctor.”

“Yeah, as I said just send me over…”

“-Actually, I had one last thing to ask.” He continues, piquing your interest.

“Okay-”

“We had an increase in budget this year that would allow us to hire an extra agent. I have been in contact with my higher-ups who are currently in the process of trying to bring forensic medical professionals into the bureau, and they are currently finishing up a state-of-the-art mortuary facility on the academy grounds.”

You pause, absorbing all the information agent Hotchner was relaying too you, trying to process what he meant by all of this, and you couldn’t help but feel the excitement swell in your heart as you got your hopes up.

“The brass was obviously aware of you, and how highly I spoke of you on our return, and they requested that I reach out and ask you personally if you would be willing to consider a position. Now, I’m aware that it’s a big ask and that it would require a trans-Atlantic mo-“

“-Absolutely, I would absolutely consider it.” You can’t hide the excitement in your voice as you cut the agent off.

“-That’s great, I’m currently in the process of trying to negotiate a forensic professional to our team, who would be essential in commencing the work of the forensic pathology department, before stepping back into a role primarily within the BAU; and they said yes, we are just working out some of the finer details.”

“Hotch, do you happen to remember what I said in the café that day?” You heard him laugh.

“Yes.”

“This means, a lot to me. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all, I think you would be perfectly suited here.”

You try to contain your joy as Agent Hotchner takes a slight pause.

“I have a meeting later, I will keep you updated, but be prepared; this position will open up fairly quickly. I will also forward you the information regarding our agent.”

“That’s great, I will get all of that sorted for you tomorrow. Hotch?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks… really, this is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.” His laugh emanates through the phone again as you smile widely.

“It’s no problem, doctor. Have a good night.”

“And you.”

As you place the phone back down in its cradle you can’t help but jump up and down as a sense of overwhelming joy overtakes you.

The rush of adrenaline allows you to tidy your desk in record time and soon you find yourself slinging your bag over your shoulder and walking out onto the crowded streets of London, striding to the nearest Tube Station a bright, smile on your face that was here to stay.

Hotch wasn’t lying when he said the position would open up quickly, within a month you were officially an American citizen, and a federal agent in training about to begin your first day…. Well, half-day.

Nothing would ever come close to describing the anxiousness you felt gazing up at the looming foyer of the FBI Academy in which the BAU was based.

Butterflies swam through your stomach as you proceeded up the steps and towards the main doors where an FBI crest was flaunted above the doors inscribed with ‘Fidelity, Integrity, Bravery.” The words somehow calmed you. These people were the best of the best, and so were you, just maybe not at hand-to-hand combat.

Hotch had quickly made you aware that the unit was in a transitional period due to both, a major investigation, and the aforementioned ‘death’ of an agent. This meant, he would not be able to greet you, and instead he would be sending Garcia, a familiar face.

And as you made your way through the sliding glass doors, she quickly bustled up to you engulfing you in her arms; a hug you couldn’t help but find comforting. You were in slightly over your head; a new country, a new job, and what you hoped would be a new group of friends.

Garcia practically dragged you towards a front desk to retrieve a visitor pass and then towards a set of elevators.

“I’m so glad you’re here you know?”

“I’m glad to be here.”

“The whole team loved you in London.”

You grin at this, quickly snapping back to attention as the elevator doors slide open onto the sixth floor. You had little time to process this however as Penelope quickly grabbed your hand and dragged you towards glass doors that were inscribed with the initials ‘BAU’. If you weren’t nervous before, you were now.

“I should let you know that we are in a state of eternal chaos right now. I’m pretty sure Hotch hasn’t even had the chance to tell the team you are coming yet.” Garcia pushes open the doors and leads you through into a large open area.

The main floor of the BAU was carpeted, and spacious L-shaped desks created a sort of bullpen. Each desk had a unique personality that you couldn’t help noting. A raised platform ran along the back of the room housing offices and to the far left, what looked like a conference room.

The space was surprisingly welcoming for an office, and you slowly scanned the room, unable to spot any familiar faces before you were being dragged towards a corridor.

“This is my bat-cave.” Garcia has a proud look on her face as she walks into a large computer room littered with monitors, and a large wall-high computer unit sat behind glass on the other wall.

“Wait- this is amazing! Did you program it all?” You whisper as you trail your finger across the trinket-covered desk, noting the operating system was like no other you had ever seen.

“I did indeed.” You grin as you turn to face her, prying your eyes away from the impressive computers.

“Okay, the team will be here in about 10 minutes, in the meantime I have a PowerPoint.”

“A PowerPoint?”

“Yes, it’s the best way to deliver information.” You laugh shyly, shrugging your shoulders as she fiddles with her computer for a second before dragging you across the ramp, and towards the aforementioned conference room, pointing out offices as she went.

“This is Hotch’s office, he never leaves it unless he’s forced to. This is Rossi’s office, He has expensive renaissance art, and Morgan’s office is back there, he’s hot.” You can’t help but laugh at their dynamic which had stuck out to you in London, but it clearly wasn’t a one-off occurrence.

“…and this, my friend, is the round table room.” You quickly get ushered into one of the comfortable desk chairs as the screen lights up, Garcia standing in front of it.

“This is gonna be less dramatic since you’ve met everyone already but here goes nothing I guess-“

The screen flashes with a title slide reading ‘The Behavioural Analysis Unit’ in bold lettering, the unit logo accompanying it.

“I like your font choice-“ You smile as Garcia thanks you and changes the slide.

“Ohhh yes! Meet the team. This is the best part.” You chuckle at this allowing her to continue.

“Okay, so we of course have Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner…” You try to hold back a laugh as a small photo pops up on the screen accompanying some facts.

“…he is our ‘boss man’ and he’s the dad of the team, but he’s also actually a dad; his son’s name is Jack, and I can’t really remember what age he is but he’s very sweet. He also doesn’t smile… or blink, like ever so don’t be scared that’s just him.” You find yourself wondering whether or not this PowerPoint had been run past Hotch or not.

“Okay, we have me. Fun fact, I’m fabulous. If you ever need a sneaky background check on anyone, I can do that in literally three seconds flat, and I’m also fabulous.”

“Then we have Derek -Chocolate Thunder- Morgan. I’m his baby girl, don’t steal him from me, thank you. The rest is self-explanatory… just, look at him!” You lean back in your seat rolling your eyes, but the sudden sound of a door opening grabs your attention, startling you.

“Garcia?” JJ makes her way into the room quickly spotting you sat on the chair. She laughs slightly as she notices the slideshow proudly displayed on the projector.

“Did you run this past Hotch?”

“No-“ JJ laughs, rolling her eyes as she turns to you, offering a warm smile.

“Dr. L/N, it’s great to have you here, I’ll take you to Hotch’s office. He left the contracts in there.”

“Who’s that?” Morgan points towards a shadowed figure sat opposite JJ in Hotch’s office.

The team had been busy monitoring Declan and trying to come up with a plan for when Doyle resurfaced that, they had failed to remember Hotch’s brief mention of a new agent before he left for his temporary assignment in Pakistan.

“JJ’s probably talking to Strauss.” Spencer shrugs, squinting one last time at the image distorted by the half-closed blinds.

“There were whispers of a new agent-“ Rossi says, rolling his eyes at the team’s speculation, fully aware he was only furthering their curiosity. But instead, he leads them towards the conference room where Garcia is preparing case files.

“Hotch wouldn’t hire a new agent, not right now anyway, he isn’t even here.” Spencer places his satchel across the back of the chair before slumping down into it.

“Yeah, with this whole Doyle thing, it wouldn’t make sense. Plus, it’s not like anybody would willingly walk into this chaos.”

The team begin to discuss their findings amongst themselves, taking notes.

“Alright Y/N, you don’t have to sign the contracts for your main job until Hotch returns. For now, you just need to sign the ones admitting you into the Academy, where you will complete the physical requirements. The academics have been waived, as you will be spending your free time with us.” You nod, quickly scrawling your signature down into all the open spaces on the contract and hand the form to JJ.

“Okay, Academy starts in three days, but for now you can come and meet the team.” JJ smiles at you patting you lightly on your shoulder.

“You’re gonna do great.” You feel your cheeks heat up.

“Do the team know I’m coming?” JJ stops at the door, turning to you.

“They don’t. We are currently tracking an international terrorist who killed one of our own, and it’s pretty much a waiting game until he resurfaces. They’ve been pretty preoccupied.” You nod, solemnly at JJ.

“Thanks for the falsified PM report by the way.” She chuckles as your eyes widen.

“You know?”

“Yeah, it was a joint decision between Hotch and I to put Agent Prentiss into WITSEC, this is the tail end of her case.” You gasp as you make the connection.

“I read about it, He was vengeful at Emily for killing his son, so he attempted to murder her.” JJ nods.

“But in front of the team, you know nothing okay? As far as they are aware Emily Prentiss was killed by Ian Doyle. That’s it.”

“Got it.” You allow JJ to lead you down the hallway towards the BAU roundtable room, where you can see the team sat talking amongst themselves.

“Guys-“ JJ speaks up as she walks through the door, you follow her through standing awkwardly as the teams eyes fall on you.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice pipes up as you give him a small smile and an awkward wave, which doesn’t falter the confusion across his features.

“Hotch never got around to telling you, but Y/N is going to be our newest team member. For the moment she’s in training. But she will become an invaluable asset to this team once Hotch returns and she is assigned her true position. She will work with us whilst running then new forensic pathology department in the Bureau.” You gaze over the team attempting to process JJ’s words.

“She’s not an agent?” Derek speaks up. You are too distracted however, by Spencer who is patting the empty seat beside him.

You settle in the seat as JJ begins explaining your situation.

“Y/N is technically in the academy, she’s completing the fitness and marksmanship regime, we will provide the academic training here. Once Hotch returns, she will then hopefully be an agent, and then he will arrange her paperwork for her official position.” Morgan furrows his brows, but nods at this.

“I was remediated in the academy also.” Spencer pipes up from beside you, catching your attention.

“For what?” You quietly question, your curiosity peaking.

“Pretty much anything relating to physical strength, or capabilities. If it wasn’t inherently textbook based, I didn’t do it.” You chuckle.

“I mean, I agreed to do all the physical training.” You smile down at your lap, as Morgan laughs.

“She’s smart and athletic, pretty boy you’ve got competition.” A blush rolls over Spencer’s cheeks as the rest of the team join in a chorus of laughter. You can’t help but feel the blush rising to your own cheeks also.

“Why did you move from London?” your gaze turns to Rossi, who offers you a small smile.

“I was just interested in a change, and I was lucky enough to be able to take this opportunity.” You smiled at the group, trying your best to keep your eyes on the people, and not on your lap where they defaulted to.

“I must say, it’s a bit strange that both times we’ve met it has been over an international terrorist.” Spencer’s voice cuts through the remaining chatter and laughter, his observation creating a new rise out of the team.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you think it’s weird?” You practically whisper as Spencer weaves you through the bullpen, towards what you were to assume would be your new desk.

“What’s weird?” He furrows his brow as he rolls out the chair, beckoning you to sit.

The desk was empty, apart from a monitor, keyboard and mouse that provided you access to various FBI databases. You weren’t one for clutter and material possessions, but you couldn’t help but recognise that the empty desk struck fear in your heart, it felt like a metaphor for your new life in Quantico.

“Me being here.” Your voice comes out a bit sadder than anticipated, each syllable laced with insecurity that would easily be picked up by a profiler.

“No, it’s not weird. In fact, I think it’s a good thing.” You feel yourself relax slightly at Spencer’s reassurance.

Reid was a sweet guy, and you were glad you had been partnered with him to learn basic profiling skills; not that you would be expected to use them, as Spencer had said, but he thought they would be good to know.

Truth be told, you were pretty sure the team had been trying their best to fill time. With the group being rather disbanded, and cases being on hold Spencer had chosen teaching you as a valid time-passing opportunity.

Pulling you out of your thoughts Spencer stood at the desk opposite, his fingers trailing over the spines of the books he had stacked high, before selecting one.

“That’s your desk?” You snapped your head up towards him as he offered you a lopsided grin and a nod.

“Yeah.” You felt a blush roll over your face, that you quickly hid by gazing down at your lap, allowing Spencer to push his chair up next to yours.

“I have an idea, that’s more interesting than reading a book.” You look up at him in confusion.

“Apparently there’s this game, called two truths and a lie?” You simply nod your head, at what sounded like a question. He seemed unsure of his own idea as he quickly continued.

“Well, in criminal profiling one of the most useful skills is to know when someone is lying. It’s obviously not one-hundred-percent fool proof, but it can dictate your next move as regards their case. And I guess it could be useful in life?” You chuckle at this, nodding your head, trying to hide your anxiousness at the prospect of having to read someone’s behaviour in front of a professional.

“I’m -uh- I’m notoriously terrible at reading people.” You feel your cheeks heat up yet again in embarrassment. Spencer’s eyes connect with yours and you quickly divert your gaze away from him.

“It’s okay, we can make it easy. I know what my tell is so I will make it more obvious for you to begin with. Just study my behaviour as best as you can and let me know if you want me to say them again.” You nod, swallowing harshly.

“Okay, I was sixteen when I got my first PhD in mathematics.” Spencer pauses, as you slowly take him in, he seems totally normal, you nod.

“I graduated high school at twelve.” You watch him again, noticing absolutely no change in his behaviour.

“I was twenty-two when I joined the BAU.” You furrow your brows, totally unsure of which was a lie, they all seemed plausible for a genius like Spencer.

“I-uhm-“ You turn your gaze to him panicking slightly as you realise, he’s looking for an answer.

“I- have no idea.” You whisper, crossing your legs up in the chair as Spencer nods.

“That’s okay, do you want to try again?” You can’t help but deflate at the idea of going through that again.

“O-okay.”

Spencer repeats the three statements again, his gaze remains fixed on you as if he’s reading your ultimate confusion.

Spencer immediately notes you perking up after the third statement.

“The first one is a lie, right?” You say, trying to hold back the grin on your face.

“How do you know?” Oh shit. You certainly couldn’t explain yourself, then he would know that you totally failed the exercise and used logic instead.

If he graduated high school at twelve, he couldn’t have had a PhD at sixteen, right? That whittles it down to a fifty-fifty chance it’s either one of them… maybe?

“Uhm, well the average PhD takes seven years to complete, five years for your masters, and then two for your dissertation. You’re pretty smart, but not super-human enough to only manage it in four years, considering you have to learn all course material and write an 80,000-word dissertation.”

You continue talking when Spencer fails to fill the silence, you failing to notice the look of shock on Spencer’s face.

“Well, I personally graduated medical school in four years, instead of five. So, I was twenty-one, and then did my two years of foundation training and it was extremely difficult to do extra-curricular research alongside full-time work, and placements. This was all despite the fact that I never found it difficult to remember the academics. I digress though, it would be virtually impossible to do a PhD in 4 years.”

Spencer swallows harshly as he chuckles.

“Yeah, I -uhm- well, you were right.” He’s still relatively speechless and you can’t help but begin to worry that you overwhelmed him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble, I just- I know it was supposed to be human behaviour, but I don’t- I couldn’t-“

“It’s okay Y/N, I just didn’t realise you were so impressive-“ Spencer’s voice has jumped an octave and he’s staring at you so intensely that you shrivel back into your chair.

“I- I mean, I’m not- I, -I just relate to you?” Spencer shifts in his chair, a squeak interrupting the silence, and causing you to jump.

“It’s o-okay, it’s nice to have-“

“Reid! L/N! Can you come into the roundtable room? We’re going to catch you up on Doyle.” JJ gestures for the pair of you to follow her, interrupting the awkward exchange between the pair of you, replacing it with a work environment that would mask you amongst others.

“We were in the hospital for about eight hours, that night, but she died on the table.” You hang your head slowly, nodding as Morgan’s voice wavers uncharacteristically. You had to try your best to keep the secret.

“We never got access to the post-mortem report from the hospital either, not even Garcia could find it.” Your head snaps up at this as you quickly come up with an excuse.

“Yeah, well you wouldn’t be allowed access to it without a next-of-kin’s consent. It’s likely that because her killer was still loose and was so high-profile, that they wouldn’t want to offer up any sensitive info. Her personnel file was erased right?”

“Yeah, it was.” Morgan confirms.

“Well, it’s just so they can’t get to people who are involved in her case as easily.” You place your hands on the desk in front of you as Spencer eyes you.

The rest of the team look pretty sad, Garcia is dabbing her eyes with a tissue, Spencer appears to be peeved off, but Morgan’s face is set in unadulterated frustration.

“Doyle knows us, he knows the BAU. If he wants blood, he will come for us.” You shrug slightly at this; the fact of the matter was they wouldn’t have access, even if it existed.

“I’m sorry Morgan.” You say, pursing your lips together offering him a tight smile.

“How about we just go back to-“ JJ leans forwards patting the centre of the table in an attempt to steer the conversation back on track.

“-yeah.” Reid jumped in, before continuing.

“We knew that after Emily’s death, Doyle would want to resurface to search for his son Declan who-

“Sorry to interrupt Reid but speaking of resurfacing-“ You can practically feel the panic emanating from the team as they all dash towards Garcia at the head of the table, leaving you behind.

You rock side to side in the swivel chair as the team all gather in the corner of the room talking over Garcia’s laptop screen.

“That’s him.”

“Can we be so sure? I mean, it’s only been a month.”

“Spencer, I- Y/N, can you come here?”

You stand making your way towards JJ who is shuffling through a folder.

“This is a photograph of Ian Doyle. Is this man from the CCTV him?” She pokes her finger towards the male in question on the laptop.

“I mean given how statistically unlikely it is for someone this remarkably similar to exist in an area being surveyed for Doyle’s presence, I would say yes that definitely is him. Especially so, considering he has no biological siblings.” JJ nods, agreeing with you.

The rest of the team straighten up, looking to each other as if to decide who gives the orders, all eyes eventually settling on Derek.

“Okay, well I think we should set up surveillance for Declan full time. He is our priority.” You nod in response, as JJ quickly grabs a pen, scrawling on the back of her case file.

“We can dispatch agents to his house to watch for suspicious activity. Spencer, Penelope, we need you to track all of Doyle’s aliases, and update us if any of them resurface, or lead you to an address. In the meantime, Morgan and I will stakeout his school, and see if he will lead us to his hideout from there. Y/N, focus on academy, it’s about to get really busy in here.” JJ Claps her hand, signalling her finish as the rest of the team hums in approval.

For once in your life the room felt alive with the determination of the team, banding together.

“Rossi is in his office reviewing cases, I’ll let him know of the break and to be on standby if we need him, and Spencer in the field.” Morgan quickly dashes past you and out the door.

After that the team quickly went their separate ways. Spencer followed Garcia into her office, and not long after Morgan resurfaced from Rossi’s office, JJ had him bustled into the elevator with little time to spare. That left you standing in the middle of the roundtable room confused, and with a day to kill before academy.

“Welcome to the ‘Basic Field Training’ portion of the FBI Academy. Here we will teach you Firearms, Survival Skills, Tactical and Emergency Vehicle Operations, and of course you will be completing Hogan’s Alley.”

You cross your arms, pulling against your waist, almost giving yourself a hug. You were enjoying the comfort of the FBI hoodie you had been provided with, the soft fabric seemingly dampening your anxiety. You were in a new situation, with new, unfamiliar people.

“Today, we will focus on running the single mile, and the three mile as a warm-up. We will then have you split into three groups. One team will run the obstacle course, The second will go to the shooting range, and the final group will do arrests.”

The coach seemed like a fairly nice man, he had assured you before the class that he was aware of your situation, and that Agent Hotchner had spoken very highly of you. He had also noted that you had been put into a small group of 5 trainees to assure you got plenty of attention, in case your training were to be cut short.

“Okay can the five of you line up on the track and stretch out a bit.” The group followed the SSA’s instructions, lining up at the start line.

You zoned out as you went down your body, naming each muscle in your head and stretching it out until you were satisfied that you wouldn’t injure yourself.

“Is everyone finished?”

The group let out a chorus of ‘yes sir’s, and he offered you an assuring nod.

“Good. Remember it’s not a race, you may start now. Pace yourselves and enjoy it.”

As he stepped off the track the group began moving at a pace, but you stuck towards the back of the group, saving your energy for the final few yards.

You managed to settle into the rhythm of your feet hitting against the pavement, tuning out the hum of activity coming from your other academy-mates. Your breathing was even, steady, and unwavering as you felt the rush of adrenaline overcome you that made you feel as if you could do almost anything.

When you looked up from the ground, the finish line was nearing you, and with about 150 yards left you picked up the pace, slowly making your way to the front of the group. Not in an attempt to beat them, but an attempt to prove that you belonged among these people who had to complete a fitness test to qualify, when you didn’t.

As you cross the finish line you can’t help but feel proud of yourself, you weren’t the most athletic person and a mile was an achievement, and at twelve minutes, and fifteen seconds for a mile at an easy pace you weren’t doing too bad.

“That was a good warm-up guys, now for the three mile. Again, I don’t want you to worry about this too much, because we will be completing it every day for the rest of the course, and you will get better. But as a benchmark, I would be expecting about 36-38 minutes for this. Off you go!”

And off you went again, this time you kept behind the remainder of the group, who had started off pretty quickly for what was going to be three circuits of the mile track.

As you ran you gathered your thoughts. With the Doyle case you had been practically abandoned. Spencer and Garcia were hauled up in her office, and from the glimpses of Rossi you barely saw, reviewing and consulting on cases seemed to be time-consuming work.

You had spent the remainder of yesterday reviewing some materials Spencer had dropped on your desk from the academy lectures. They were pretty self-explanatory, and anything you didn’t know was pretty simple to remember considering you would quickly jot it down, solidifying it in your mind.

By the time you had finished Spencer and Garcia had resurfaced to check on you. And even though you insisted that you were happy to stay and help them in any other ways, they had insisted you had gone home, much to your chagrin.

You had walked home to an empty, undecorated apartment. It felt pretty lonely, and you didn’t want to be there if you could avoid it. In a rush decision you had grabbed your laptop bag, and quickly walked down the street to a local diner. There you sat, scrolling through various medical journals, and hopeful articles regarding technological advancement in the forensic fields. It was at midnight that they sent you packing, in an attempt to close for the evening.

Cheers and screams pulled you back to reality as you crossed the finish line, barely acknowledging the fact you had completed your three miles.

“L/N, L/N! Stop, you did the three.” The instructor jogs over to you patting you on the shoulder, and that’s when you had the sense to turn, trying to spot the remainder of your team, who were only on the first quarter of their final mile.

“How- I’m done?”

“Yeah, you’re a speedy one. This programme will be a breeze for you, provided you can shoot.” He grins at you, and you smile back, breathing a sigh of relief. You were glad you weren’t the worst of the group.

“You’re a doctor, right?” You nod slowly, letting the SSA guide you towards the bleacher.

“Yeah, Dr. Y/N L/N. The medical kind.” He laughs at this, offering you his hand to shake.

“SSA. Jonathan Smith.” You happily take his hand, and shake it, casting your gaze to the rest of the runners who were half-way through their final mile.

“I’ve heard all about you, from Agent Hotchner of course. I was a bit sceptical when he told me you were bypassing a lot of the academy. Now that I’ve met you though, I can see why.” You grin, picking up your water bottle and taking a long gulp.

“I really want to be here, I’m just not sure I can shoot a gun.” You laugh, and he grins.

“Don’t worry, that’s why we’re here.”

Slowly the group assembles at the finish line, the few who had strayed behind catching up, and proving themselves significantly.

“Good job, our final runner finished on just over thirty-eight minutes, so you guys are spot on. Give yourselves a round of applause.” You can see all the others, grinning wide as they applaud themselves, and you can’t help it either. There was a massive sense of achievement in just completing the warm-up.

“Okay, there’s an uneven number so I will take one of you individually, and then we will have two other pairs, who will go with SSA. Alex and SSA. Jameson.” He gestures to two agents who have joined him at the front, offering you small waves at the respective mention of their names.

“L/N, you will be with me.” You make your way over to SSA Smith, as the rest of the four get sorted into their pairs, with their supervisory agent.

“I’m hoping that the individual time will be beneficial for you, and that you might learn quicker this way. Is that okay?” You nod. You were definitely grateful for Smith’s help, he had already proven to be really kind, and dedicated to your training.

“That’s great, thanks sir.”

“Oh, please just call me Jonathan.”

“Alright, up first we have firearms.” You grimace slightly which causes Jonathan to laugh.

“It’s not that bad, we just have some basic rules. Treat all firearms as if they are loaded, keep your finger off the trigger until you intend to press it, and never point a firearm at anyone unless you are justified.” You nod, settling into a serious mode.

“Okay, so here’s a holster, you’re going to put that on your belt.” You quickly follow his directions, placing the holster where it feels most comfortable to grab from.

“Is that comfortable? You’ve positioned it further forwards than most people.” You nod, motioning as if you were to reach from it as Jonathan hums in approval.

“Okay, if that’s good I’m going to give you your training weapon and ammunition.” You quickly accept his instruction as he shows you how to load and unload the Glock.

He quickly explains how to release the safety and shoot, and then he offers you the Glock.

“Take a few shots and see how it feels.” You guffaw at him slightly.

“Sir, I-I’ve never shot a gun in my life, I’m going to miss.”

“That’s okay, we call it training for a reason, I’ll stand behind you and help you hold it until you get used to it. I’m not expecting you to hit a target first time, you’re just getting used to it okay?” You nod, stepping up to the mark.

Jonathan, placed himself behind you, resting his hand on top of yours over the weapon to support it until you get used to the recoil.

“When you’re ready give me three shots, as close or as far apart as you wish.” You nod, adjusting your stance and then you pull the trigger.

The gunshot echoes throughout the large warehouse building and you pause, feeling the reverberation against your chest.

“You hit the target, which is great. Two more!” Your eyes scan the target, noticing he was right. To the left of the paper man’s shoulder sat a bullet hole.

In quick succession you took two more shots, more prepared for them this time, and each time you hit just outside of your target.

“That was great! Do you think you could hold it yourself?” You nod, your gaze remaining focused on the target.

You feel Jonathan step away and you prepare to focus, aligning your hand with your target, ensuring that you had foresight. And you took three more shots, this time hitting the target’s left shoulder.

“That’s great Y/N. Put the safety on and holster your weapon for me.” You quickly flip the safety, sliding the weapon into your holster and turn, unable to hold back the wide grin on your face.

“Good job Y/N, are you sure you haven’t done this before?” You shake your head quickly, still grinning like an idiot.

“-Y/N?” You both turn quickly at the sound of a voice interrupting you.

“Spencer?” You grin shyly up at the male towering over you. He was wearing goggles, and ear defenders similar to you.

“How are you? Is this academy training?” You nod at him.

“She’s never shot a gun before, and she still managed to hit the target.” Jonathan pipes up, clearly revelling in your victory. You feel your cheeks heat up.

A smile settles on Spencer’s face, as he studies the target, noticing the three hits, each getting more and more accurate.

“Good job, that’s amazing!” Spencer smiles, his gaze turning to the ground hiding a blush that rivalled your own.

“What are you doing down here, I thought you would be busy with Garcia?”

Spencer sighs, at your question, his grin dropping a bit.

“I like to come down to just blow off steam, after all that’s happened this year-“ Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as you realise, he means Emily’s death. You really wished you would stop walking yourself into discussions involving her, especially considering you knew she was very much alive.

“O-oh well, I’ll let you get on with it.” You stutter quickly, trying to regain your composure.

“Y-yeah, you’ll be stopping by later, won’t you? I-I’ll see you then.” He waves and strides away in quick succession, heading straight for the door as you furrow your brows. You turn to see a grin on Jonathan’s face.

“That wasn’t Dr. Spencer Reid by any chance, was it?” You find yourself confused as you nod.

“Yeah, it was.” Jonathan’s eyes widen slightly at this.

“Isn’t he like, a genius?”

“Well, I mean, I don’t think intelligence can be accurately measured, which would mean that technically ‘genius’ doesn’t exist-“ You trail off as you realise you are rambling.

“-yeah, he’s a genius.”

You quickly press the button for the sixth floor, relaxing as the elevator begins to carry towards the BAU.

You were aware that you looked a mess, you were dressed in an FBI sweatsuit, and your hair was damp after your much-needed shower. Luckily for you The Obstacle Course had been your final challenge for the day and running a mile in mud whilst leaping and climbing various obstacles left you yearning the sensation of hot water against stiff muscles.

You felt as though you could sleep, but it was still only three o’ clock and you didn’t want to leave until at least six; it felt mean to go home when the rest of the team would still be stuck in the office.

The elevator dings, pulling you out of your thoughts. Quickly you slung your gym bag over your shoulder and made your way towards the double-glass doors that had seemed so intimidating yesterday.

Your nerves hadn’t exactly worn off, yet, but you certainly felt more relaxed. It was more the people that made you feel anxious than the actual job. You had so many team members, and you wanted to be friends with all of them, but you were perpetually awkward and even the interactions you had with Spencer ended in you both being obscenely flustered.

“Y/N, Hi!” Garcia perks up as you enter the BAU doors, clattering towards you on her heels to engulf you in a warm hug. Though you weren’t one for physical contact, it was weirdly exactly what you needed, and you felt yourself relax in her arms.

“Don’t strangle her Garcia.” You jump slightly at the second voice coming from behind you and you turn to see Agent Rossi, grinning over a cup of coffee. Garcia releases you and you turn to face him, giving him a quick wave.

“You had academy I assume?” You nod quickly, as he takes in your attire.

“U-uhm yes sir.”

He chuckles at your formalities.

“Rossi is fine.” You nod, walking towards the coffee machine and searching for a mug.

“I keep a spare one, you can use that.” You hear Spencer’s voice echo from your left, and you jump yet again.

“You’re a jumpy one doctor.” Garcia grins as you straighten. She taps you affectionately on your nose which makes you jump again, but this time you bang your head against an overhead cabinet.

You gasp on impact, clutching the back of your head as Garcia takes a step back apologising profusely.

Spencer on the other hand rushes towards you, placing his hand over the hand you were using to cradle your head, and another on your shoulder. He slowly walks backwards, guiding you towards the break room table and sits you down.

“Are you okay?” You chuckle lightly, trying to break the awkwardness.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just…. jumpy?” Spencer grins at this. He drops his hand, making his way towards a fridge-freezer.

“I-I’m so sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to, I-“ You take in the frantic woman who sits opposite you.

“Garcia, it’s fine… seriously. It’s just a bump.” Spencer promptly returns to your side and sits in the chair beside you. In his outstretched hand is an icepack wrapped in a kitchen towel, which you gratefully accept.

Garcia’s phone startles you out of your silent reverie, as she receives a notification. Quickly she bustles away, obviously going to take care of it.

“Okay, we have an address for Doyle, can you guys hear me, okay?!” Garcia talks loudly down her office phone as Rossi, Spencer, and yourself stand beside her, reading the screens over her shoulder.

Garcia reems off the address as you stare off into space, JJ’s voices quickly pulling you back to reality.

“Morgan and I are headed there now, I’ve called Hotch. Spencer, Rossi, I need you both to go to Declan’s house. I know he went home from school early, but considering how dangerous this takedown is, we want him in FBI custody in case he gets away and flees with the child.”

The phone quickly hangs up after that.

Garcia Rossi and Spencer get up, quickly making their way to the door. Spencer, however, pauses turning towards you as you cluelessly follow him.

“We’re probably going to be here all night; you can stay if you want? If not, go home and get some rest.” You watch as Spencer bounces on the balls of his feet, he quickly gestures for you to walk with him.

“I’m tired but I think I will stay, maybe I can be useful?” Spencer smiles, nodding at you.

“Tell you what, go into Hotch’s office, there’s a pull-out sofa in there. Sleep for a few hours and I can wake you if anything interesting happens?” He quickly jogs towards the elevator, meeting Rossi inside.

“I’ll call Garcia and tell her to let you into the office.” You quickly nod, furrowing your brows as the elevator door shuts.

You turn towards the clattering of heels to your right.

“Spencer texted me, he said you needed to sleep and to help you with the pull-out bed in Hotch’s office?” You smile, nodding at Garcia.

You weren’t too happy with the concept of sleeping whilst everyone else was out risking their lives. However, as soon as Spencer had mentioned the word sleep you had felt a deep desire to curl up in a corner somewhere and doze. The academy had taken a lot out of you, and you were feeling the consequences.

Garcia however, acted like people sleeping in Hotch’s office was a regular thing and she very happily grabbed a blanket and pillows from the cupboard, handing them to you as she unlocked Hotch’s office, making a beeline for the sofa.

“This thing is so handy you know? If anyone’s ever tired on long cases where they have some free time, but not enough to go home, there’s fights over it. Every office in here has one actually.” You stifle a yawn, watching as Penelope quickly unfolds the sofa out into a decent sized double bed.

“Okay, that should be all good. I’ll leave you too it, you can close those blinds or leave them open if you feel more comfortable, and the light switch is just over there.

“Thanks Garcia.” You yawn for real this time, placing the pillows down on the bed and smiling as she waves at you through the window, before disappearing back into her office.

You relish in the silence as you dawdle around the office still holding one pillow in your left arm, hugging it tightly to your chest.

You close the blinds and flick the lights off, sighing as the room settles into darkness. You absolutely needed a nap, and you were glad you had taken the opportunity. It was nearing eight o’clock and after the day being so busy you just needed a reset.

So, you took your blanket and curled up on the sofa bed, hugging your pillow tightly to your chest as you dazed off into a deep slumber.

You stir in your sleep as the door to Hotch’s office opens, allowing the bustle of the BAU bullpen to overtake what was the peace-and-quiet of Hotch’s office.

As you open your eyes, you feel the confusion setting in. In your dazed state you couldn’t quite recognise the room you were in.

“Y/N? It’s Spencer, we are having a meeting and you should probably join us.” You sit up on your elbows to see Spencer standing at the end of the room. Nodding you unravelled yourself from the blanket and stood, swaying on your feet slightly.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Mhmm. Wait. You said a meeting, you were just at Declan’s house, is everything okay?” You pause slightly in the doorway as Spencer walks out of the office. He gestures for you to follow him.

“Declan is gone, but JJ and Morgan have managed to arrest Doyle, he’s being brought into custody here and we are hoping he will be able to give us information on Declan.” You groan, rubbing your eyes with your palms.

“Not the kid…” Spencer nods, silently agreeing with you. Declan had gone through enough in his life, he didn’t need a kidnapping on top of that; no kid did.

“Oh, also, Hotch is back-“ You nod slightly, trying not to stress too much at this concept.

As you approached the roundtable room you could hear the chatter amongst the BAU members, and when they came into view you couldn’t help but smile.

“Dr. L/N, it’s good to have you here, I’m so sorry about all of this.” You smile at Agent Hotchner, shaking your head.

“Don’t worry about it.” The rest of the team offer you kind smiles as you settle in your chairs, ready to begin the meeting.

“Okay, so where’s Morgan?”

“He refused to leave Doyle’s side, so they will arrive together” JJ offers Hotch a slight smile as he nods.

“Okay, in the meantime I would like to talk to you Y/N.” You quickly rise from your chair, following him out of the room, waiting for him to close the door behind you.

“I’m so sorry about all of this, I really am. I know it’s not ideal for you at all.” You quickly attempt to reassure him.

“It’s fine Hotch, really. I want to be here.” He nods, giving you a slight smile.

“I also wanted to let you know in advance, JJ and I have called Emily back, and she will be here any minute. Just prepare yourself, I don’t know how the rest of the team are going to react.”

The sound of a door opening pulls you out of your thoughts and you turn to see JJ.

“I just got a message; Derek is here with Doyle. Emily is five minutes away, Declan tried to call her.”

Hotch simply nods, guiding you back into the roundtable room, and sending you back to your seat.

You chatter a bit with the team trying to catch up on the case.

“So is Doyle responsible for Declan’s disappearance?” You furrow your brows, trying to wrap your head around all this chaos.

“It’s the most likely possibility, yes.” You nod at Spencer’s answer.

The truth of the matter was cases involving children had always hit you the hardest, no child deserved the situation Declan had grown up in. He was the son of an international terrorist, and Emily Prentiss had faked his death in order to give him a better life. Perhaps she was the only one who showed him a glimpse of what caring for a child was like?

Soon enough Derek had joined you, looking incredibly frustrated.

“Doyle’s in the interrogation room, I had a crack at him.” Derek’s face morphs into one of impatience.

“He didn’t do it Hotch, he’s insisting we release him to let him find his son.”

“So, we need to find out if he has any enemies, right?”

“Well Richard Geracey is a known enemy of Doyle; he’s been in the States for a couple weeks. I caught an image of him on a surveillance camera at Declan’s house.” Garcia pipes up, quickly displaying an image on the screen.

“He’s a suspect. Derek, go talk to him.” He stands.

As Derek disappears out of the door an idea hits you.

“Geracey couldn’t have pulled this off all on his own, I mean, Garcia saw two people destroying the security camera.” You keep your eyes glued to JJ as you speak, trying to tell whether or not you were being a hinderance.

“Well statistically the people most likely to be involved in-“

You had barely noticed that Hotch had left the room until he had returned with Derek by his side, cutting off Reid and telling everyone to sit.

“Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team.” JJ quickly stands up as you begin to realise what’s happening.

You quickly glance around the room seeing curious looks on everyone’s faces. Uh oh, you didn’t want to be a part of this conversation. Teammates who think their colleague has been dead for 7 months, then find out she’s actually alive are bound to be mad about the whole thing.

“As you all know Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. Both the doctors were able to stabilise her-”

You began to panic slightly, you were in a room with profilers, they were bound to realise you were tense, or uncomfortable, right?

“-and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.” As Hotch reems off the information you were already fully aware of you study the team, noticing the look of realisation on their faces.

“Her identity was strictly need-to-known, and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”

The team remained silent as they gazed up towards Hotch and JJ. Their faces were a mixture of confusion, and what appeared to be anger.

“She’s alive?” Garcia’s voice was meek, and it broke your heart to see the tears forming in her eyes.

Hotch stays quiet at this, averting his gaze.

“But we buried her?”

The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife and all you could do was sit there, fidgeting anxiously in your chair.

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed towards me.” You offer Hotch a small smile and a nod as his gaze lands on you.

“Any issues?! Yeah, I got issues!” The tone of Derek’s voice causes you to jump slightly, and you felt your cheeks heat up as Spencer’s eyes settled on you.

But they quickly turn to focus on the sound of footsteps entering the room. A dark-haired woman walks through the door. The woman you recognised as Emily Prentiss.

She was gorgeous, her striking hair contrasting against her skin. Her face was set in a solemn look as her eyes trailed over her former teammates.

But you are pulled out of your train of thought by Agent Hotchner, who bustles you up from your seat and walks you towards the door, closing it slightly behind him he offers you a slight smile.

“Y/N, you don’t have to mention your involvement, not if you don’t want to.” You nod at this.

“Are they going to be mad?”

“Probably, but it was a life-or-death situation and I need to stand by my decision.”

“Yes sir.”

“Listen, you’ve had a long day. How about you go back to my office and get some rest, we will be here awhile.” You shake your head quickly at this.

“No, no, sir I’m fine. I really want to stay and help.”

“We can wake you if we need you.” You give in to the idea of sleep, it was the early hours of the morning and you had been up at the crack of dawn the previous day.

“I- okay, fine. But -uhm- I was just wondering, have you looked into Declan’s mother? I mean I know Doyle is his father, but we have no idea who-“ You pause, watching as Hotch offers you a smile.

“We will certainly look into that Y/N, now get some rest.”

And for the second time that night, you curl up onto Hotch’s sofa bed, arms wrapped tightly around a pillow, but you didn’t sleep.

Your mind ran rampant with ideas, and conspiracies as to who could have taken Declan Doyle. You knew that Geracey had something to do with it, he was a known enemy of Doyle’s after some form of conflict in Belfast. But the team had no idea who Declan’s mother is, but it was likely there was some conflict between her and Doyle, considering she wasn’t with them anymore.

You felt so hopeless, you were lacking the means to gather information because Hotch had sent you to a bed at a time where sleep will not come. Out there somewhere was a little boy, being paraded around, likely as a second best to Doyle, since he was in federal custody. That child hadn’t asked to be involved in any of this, he was simply taken from school, from his home.

Gazing at your phone screen you realised half-an-hour had passed, and you were just about to get up out of the bed when there was a light tapping on your door; it was Penelope Garcia.

“Garcia?” You whisper as the silhouette wastes no time in entering the dark room, dragging the light in with her.

“I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep and that considering the rest of the team are still brainstorming in here I could come in for some one-on -one time? You seem like you are a good idea bouncer-offer.” You chuckle at this, moving upright on the bed.

“Yeah sure, absolutely.”

“Okay so first I’m going to catch you up. Basically, Declan’s nanny took him home from school after he contracted food poisoning, so whoever is responsible for his kidnapping tainted food, and got to him on campus.”

“We have established that Geracey is in some sort of conspiracy with a woman, who posed as agents for the next shift at surveying Declan, they killed the nanny, and the actual agents and then took the child.”

“A woman?”

“Yes, so we got thinking about women who have had relations to Doyle, and of course Hotch had mentioned you talking about his mother. So, Emily managed to give us a compiled list and now we are trying to break Doyle, but it doesn’t seem to be working. They have been in there for the past fifteen minutes.” You nod slightly, turning to the door which swung open suddenly.

“Y/N?” You recognised the voice as Spencer’s, watching as he stepped into the room, taking not of Garcia.

“She told you everything?” You nod as Spencer gives you a tight-lipped smile.

Garcia seems to get some form of signal from him because she quickly makes an excuse to leave, bustling past Spencer and towards her ‘bat cave’.

“I know this is -uhm- a lot to ask, but we were wondering if you would interview Doyle?”

Story Masterlist - (1) - (2)

Authors Note: Wow! I hope you guys are enjoying this? I made reader's background quite specific as it made it easier to weave in bonding between her and that characters. I also love having fun with how lucky she is for all of this to happen to her?!?! I mean it's not 100% realistic (but then again, no Spencer Reid fanfic is?) but either way, go get it girl! <3

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut

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misshoneyimhome · 3 days

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Describe the dynamic between Willy x inexp ofc now that Alex lives with them :) now she has to be extra quite

Oh, I was giggling the whole time I wrote this! 🤭

I can just picture how inexperienced!reader and William will have to devise new strategies for their living situation 😉 We know they know she’s not exactly quiet (do we remember Sweden in the beginning?), and they love pushing boundaries—so adding Alex to the condo is definitely going to be a challenge for her 🙈

Warnings: Mention of sexual activity

Word count: 900+

➼｡ﾟ

When you first heard that Alex was moving in with you and William, you weren’t quite sure whether to laugh or cry. Sure, you liked Alex—he was charming, easy-going, and always brought a good vibe. But sharing a living space? That was a whole different story. You and William had settled into this perfect little rhythm, and the thought of Alex becoming a part of that made you a bit anxious.

But the moment Alex rolled in with his bags, you could feel the shift. What used to be a carefree, spontaneous atmosphere suddenly needed a serious dose of caution. Every kiss with William turned into a covert operation, as you both had to be hyper-aware that Alex could pop in at any moment. Your once free-flowing passion morphed into a stealth mission—like some romantic spy thriller where you were tiptoeing around your own home.

Mornings were the trickiest. You’d be in the kitchen, the smell of coffee and toast wafting through the air, when William would sneak up behind you, his hands slipping around your waist. His lips would brush your neck, sending butterflies swirling in your stomach. But instead of melting into him, you’d whip your head around, heart racing because Alex might just be a few steps away. But of course, William, being the cheeky troublemaker he is, would whisper something suggestive just as Alex strolled in, his eyes dancing with mischief. It was like he enjoyed the thrill of making you squirm, turning every innocent moment into something electric.

Every little sound had to be muffled, and every passionate moment came with a side of caution. If Alex was just down the hall, you had to bite your lip and stifle a moan like some sort of secret agent in a high-stakes mission. You’d catch William’s eye across the room, and the spark would ignite, but you both knew the stakes were higher. Sneaking around became part of the fun, but it didn’t quite replace the freedom you once had.

You were both excited and frustrated by the whole situation. You missed the spontaneity, the freedom to lose yourself in William without constantly glancing over your shoulder. Gone were the days of spontaneous blowjobs in the middle of the living room, or being eaten out by William on the dinner table, or him bending you over the kitchen counter and pounding into you like there was no tomorrow.

Well… that wasn’t entirely true, of course. You’d learned Alex’s training schedule by heart, and whenever their practices didn’t overlap, William seized the chance to remind you just how much he craved you. And those moments were still as electrifying as before, even if they lacked the surprise factor that made them feel so wild before. You and William still indulged your primal desires, but now there was a constant undercurrent of caution. Every stolen kiss had a bit of a thrill to it, but it was mixed with the nagging thought that Alex could pop in at any moment.

For a while, Alex seemed blissfully clueless, as he was too busy focusing on hockey and getting used to living with you two. At first, he didn’t catch on to the way your conversations would drop like a stone the moment he walked in or how your laughter would go silent. But come on—he wasn’t daft. You all had an idea that the walls did nothing to keep your more “enthusiastic” moments under wraps.

And then came that unforgettable breakfast when Alex casually remarked, “You know, these walls are pretty thin,” with a cheeky grin. Your face went beet red, and you shot a glance at William, who was barely containing his laughter. Alex was relentless with the teasing after that. “Rough night?” he’d throw out, making you want to crawl under the table, while William just cackled like a hyena, clearly enjoying the show.

However, as the months rolled on, you and William found your groove in the new normal. The initial stress of being stifled faded into a more relaxed vibe. And you realised Alex was actually into the playful banter; he thrived on it. If you were loud, who cared? If Alex heard? Well, that just added to the fun.

The thrill of sneaking around had always brought you and William closer, and now, with Alex in the mix, those not-so-secret moments felt even more charged. Each kiss, each little touch was laced with a sensual tension that made everything feel alive. You started finding new ways to express your desire for William, sharing heated glances and whispering sweet nothings when you thought Alex was distracted—spoiler alert: he usually wasn’t.

And despite all the sneaking around, there was something undeniably lovely about seeing William so happy living with his brother. You could tell how much it meant to him to have Alex close by, and that happiness lit up his whole demeanour. The playful banter and sibling rivalry brought a whole new energy to your home, and while it made things a bit chaotic, it also created moments of pure joy. You couldn’t help but smile at the way they joked and teased each other; it reminded you that they were not just brothers but best friends.

In the end, the living situation turned into an unexpected adventure. It wasn’t ideal, but it was something you and William could totally roll with. Every shared moment became more meaningful, reminding you of the unique bond you had, even amidst the chaos of living with Alex.

#my asks #queued post #sinful sunday #inexperienced!reader x Willy #wn88 imagine #18+ smut #william nylander smut #william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey smut

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jaxplaysthesims · 1 year

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meet Sienna Forbes 💌

Growing up in San Myshuno, twenty-year old Sienna craved an escape from the hustle and bustle of the city. Having an ambitious, hard-working mother, who grew up in a household where education was the priority, made Sienna question what she wanted for herself and her future. A prominent lawyer in the city, Sienna’s mom’s only dream is that Sienna find joy and happiness doing something she loves, but the problem is Sienna doesn’t know what that is — and the fast-paced lifestyle of the city has made Sienna want to slow down. Now Sienna finds herself living alone in Sulani, where she doesn’t know anyone, and she yearns to find peace and that thing that sparks her soul.

Follow along on her journey to Eat, Mediate, Love in my new Let’s Play series on youtube ❥ First video will be posted today, 10/9 at 2pm est!

#my first LP is finally here :')#so excited to share her story with you all #sims 4 #ts4 simblr #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 youtube #ts4 youtube #ts4 screenshots #ts4 story #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #forbes #my sims #sims 4 my sims #ts4 my sims #ts4 custom content #sims 4 cc #sims 4 simblr #ts4 cc

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aintmyjewelry · 4 months

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#back in that weird mental state #and that weird state of grieving #I know I've talked about this before and #I know I sound like a crazy person #you can make fun of me all you want I am already feeling low so what's more #but every time something new comes out #and I think oh my grandma would've loved that #or she would've liked to know about that #but she's not here #and it just makes everything harder #and its so hard sometimes to be excited for things #its so silly I know that #but even just thinking about the new THG book #she would've loved to know there was more to the story #she genuinely enjoyed that franchise #and seeing the new things that come out for it #and I can't share it with her #its just so fucking weird and I hate it

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rosicheeks · 7 months

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i do not know if i ever sent this to you. i have posted it. i hope you like it Princess.

#uhhhhhm no you HAVE NOT SENT THIS TO ME BEFORE?!?!#I literally am speechless #I’m not super talky right now #but even if I was I feel like I’d still be fucking speechless #like I already said I love your writing 🩷#and it fucking BLOWS ME AWAY when people write about me or use me as an inspiration #like????????? what??????? me???????????!#I’m going to keep this close to my heart and look at it whenever I’m feeling down #I don’t remember if I said that already but it’s true #I need to get a journal or a cute box to put things like this in so I can just grab it and look through them when I’m feeling shitty #one thing I needed to say is the fact that you shared this with me now of all times??? is kinda crazy to me #idk if it’s a coincidence or if the universe/God/whoever/whatever is trying to tell me to go back into music and singing #not going to go into it too much but I’ve been looking at my life a lot lately #and I’m realizing I’m not getting any younger…. I know I’m still young but if I don’t do something soon -#my life is going to completely pass before my eyes and I really really don’t want that #I’m *finally* going to get mental help soon (long story but I have to wait a few weeks)#and once I’m actually mentally stable I can focus on what I want to do with my life #so I’ve been thinking a lot about my performing arts background and then randomly a get an email from a choir director I know #asking if I could please join the choir for their Easter performance cause they could really use my high notes #and she just kept complimenting me and it felt really nice ☺️#then when I went to the first rehearsal I sat next to this girl and we were singing a part and the first sopranos go up to a high A #and I can hit it easily but most of them couldn’t so it felt like I was going this mini solo lol #but she asks me what my range is and I told her that back when I trained I could sing queen of the night which I think goes up to an F6 #and she was talking about how impressive that is #and it made me think about if I actually trained and got back into it how good I actually could get #I don’t mean this to be like ‘look at me look at me I’m so good’#it just feels nice to have a little bit of a direction again #who knows if I’ll actually go down the music path again but it does sound damn exciting #I miss it with all my heart - I miss singing and performing and acting… I even miss music theory #anyway rant over and i ran out of space but thank you so much I seriously can’t thank you enough 😭🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

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alternis · 11 months

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ive been listening to an x-men podcast and one concept that i think is very useful, and i want to nail on the dc head offices door like its the 95 theses, is "comic books are a sandbox and the characters are toys, and when you're a writer you are free to do whatever you want with the characters! but you cannot break the toys for the writer who comes after you"

#i feel like this is a genuinely really useful way to handle the shared ownership of comic book characters #and 'breaking' doesnt mean killing them off or changing their codename. it means altering the core of the character so fundamentally #that future writers are now incredibly /limited/ in what they can do with that character #it's what editorial tried to do to cass cain during her 'evil cass' storyline #the only fix is either a massive retcon to undo that alteration. or killing them to remove them from play. bc theyre broken now.#morrison is uh. probably one of the big name examples of writers who LOVE breaking the toys #which can be fun and exciting if you werent invested in the original character but if you are. well. you end up like talia fans.#this also doesnt mean all 'big changes' are bad its very specifically when your change limits how future writers can use the character #like tim being bi was a big change but it expands the stories you can tell with him rather than limiting them.#does this makes sense. i hope so

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archaeren · 3 months

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How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

#creative writing #writers block #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writers and poets #writerscommunity #fanfic writing #writeblr #writing advice

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scarlet-star-witch · 3 months

Text

The moon and his sun

Aemond Targaryen x Female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 11.5 K

Warnings: Fluffy, Aemond finally makes a friend, characters will be aged up next chapter, reader is from a made-up house

AN: This is my first time writing for HOTD and I'm excited and terrified to share this story with you. I've had this idea in my head for so long and decided to finally get it out. Hope you enjoy xx

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

He was used to playing for second best.

In his short life he became used to disinterested gazes, murmurs of his supposed cold heart and fits of rage, avoidant steps when he passed, the curse he possessed as the scarred second son.

But never from her.

She looked at him as though he put the stars in the sky. She looked at him as if he was the reason the sky bloomed with breathtaking colors in the early morning.

He felt himself unworthy of her attention and affection, something she was aware of, and she would hold him and tell him all the love she gave him was very much deserved.

It was a sentiment he always had trouble not disputing instantly.

She made his miserable heart full.

Aemond couldn’t believe his luck himself for the sun that entered his world and brightened his life.

He never believed he was worthy of her love.

And she spent her entire life trying to prove him wrong.

It was a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day.

A day Aemond was dreading.

It wasn’t often their family made trips away from King’s Landing. His father was King and most visitors made the effort to come to the Capitol and spare them the effort of a visit, but a sudden trip had their entire family uproot their usual routine and he found himself hating every moment of it.

Being dragonless, he was left to endure the crashing waves of the sea that made his stomach turn.

“This place is disgusting.” Aegon said the moment they landed on solid ground.

“Aegon.” His mother admonished with a steady glare. “The Ixtal Islands are a beautiful place and they’re home to one of the most powerful houses in the seven kingdoms. You would do well to show them some respect.”

“Not like they’ll offer me anything of importance.” He muttered bitterly. Rumors had spread of his mother and father’s desire to wed him to his sister Heleana, his future already planned for him.

His mood was immediately soured at the realization that none of the beauties he saw on the Island shore were his intended, but that wouldn’t stop him from having his fun.

“Why are we even here?” Aegon whined immaturely, making his mother suppress yet another eye roll in response.

“The Lord of Ixtal is an old friend of your father.”

“I still don’t understand why that demands my presence here.” Aegon rolled his eyes.

“Our council is in need of a new Master of Coin and your father is considering his dear friend. We are here for negotiations and our family is nothing if not loyal. Your father, our King, needs us.” Alicent answered shortly.

Aemond was excited to finally see the Island he had read so much about. He knew their history, their riches and goods they traded with the entirety of the realm. The Ixtal Islands were the most plentiful and prosperous house in the realm and he was in awe to see his readings come to life before him.

It was the socialization he dreaded.

Nobles would look at Aegon with respect, respect he didn’t deserve even being the first born son of the King. Helaena would be regarded with reverence, a comparison to the Realm’s Delight.

But he was nothing more than a second son, easily brushed over.

Daeron was still just a babe, too young to understand the slight they possessed not having been born first, but Aemond understood all too well.

Their family was escorted into a grand throne room and Aemond was in awe of the intricate ornaments that decorated the hall and he briefly wondered why King’s Landing was where the most powerful man in the realm sat when this place existed.

His wide eyes eagerly took in every sight in front of him, admiring how the vast forest behind the castle casted a mystical green glow on the room from the giant window sitting behind the intricate gold throne.

“Viserys!” A cheerful voice called and for the first time in a long time, Aemond heard his father laugh, a genuinely delighted sound as he embraced his friend.

Aegon shared a brief look with him, his shock at hearing his father's laughter clear in the way he furrowed his brows in bitterness.

“It’s been too long, my friend.”

“Alicent, always a delight to see you, my dear.”

Aemond noted the blush on his mother’s cheeks as the charming lord embraced her. He shifted on his feet as his siblings were introduced. He knew what came next, the flippant dismissal was familiar yet it stung each time.

He looked up as the Lord shook hands with Aegon and gave Helaena a polite nod, her body language giving him the signal she wasn’t comfortable with anything else.

As he stepped in front of Aemond, he suddenly felt two feet tall under the man’s gaze. Until he smiled. It was a gesture filled with warmth he hadn’t been expecting.

“Aemond, a strong name for a strong lad.” The lord clapped his shoulder and Aemond felt his body straighten, his confidence reappearing the second he realized he wasn’t going to be passed over yet again.

He looked up at the Lord with a smile, feeling more respected by the stranger in front of him than he ever had from his own father.

“You remember my wife,” The Lord gestured to a finely dressed woman who smiled and bowed to them courteously.

“My son and-” The lord stopped abruptly, suddenly noticing the absence of the person who was supposed to be next in line and looked to his wife who was already wincing, having expected the abrupt drop in conversation due to their eldest daughter’s absence.

“My apologies, my daughter has lived here all her life yet still feels the need to explore.” The Lady of Ixtal explained, the lack of anger in her voice that gave way to begrudging acceptance made it obvious this was a common occurrence.

Viserys laughed and looked at his friend.

“You could not possibly think your children would give you any trouble, would you?” He chided sarcastically to the Lord who could only laugh in delight at his beloved daughter’s antics.

Aemond watched the interaction with wide eyes, intrigued by the sense of ease that surrounded everything.

If they were in King’s Landing and he was late to an event, his mother would have his hyde.

Suddenly, the great doors slammed open and an armored knight was seen running into the room, his hand latched onto someone small who was giggling in delight.

“My Lord, My Lady, I am so sorry, she wanted-”

“It’s quite alright, Ser Jerrod. I know my daughter could not have made it easy for you.” The Lord dismissed the unnecessary apology and smiled down at his daughter who smiled somewhat sheepishly as she passed by to take her place in line.

She smoothed her hands down the front of her silk dress and stood straighter, putting on the air of the perfect and primed daughter, as if they hadn’t all just seen her enter in a tizzy five minutes late.

Her mother looked down at her and leaned over her brother’s shoulder to pluck a leaf from her disheveled hair. Her eyes widened slightly, fearing retribution for her antics, but her mother only raised a teasing brow, silently admonishing her.

The girl brushed her messy hair off her shoulder and finally moved her gaze to their guests, a smile coming to her face as she met the eyes of the silver haired boy in front of her.

Aemond was rooted to his spot, his expression one of perplexed confusion. The smile she sent him, the gesture which was so simple - and usually faked by most at court - was blinding.

He was taken aback by the fact that she hadn’t looked at the powerful presence that was the King or the Queen faithfully at his side. She hadn’t looked at Aegon, Daeron or even Helaena, the only girl close to her age in the room.

She looked at him first.

She smiled at him first.

It was a gesture that wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, but to him, it meant everything, it lifted the veil of neglect he was so familiar with from his shoulders, leaving him to feel lighter than before.

He listened as the Lord introduced his daughter and he ran her name over and over in his head, feeling his cheeks heat, a blush easily coming to his face as she greeted everyone, but her stare came back to him, smiling shyly.

“This place is beautiful.” Helaena spoke dreamily as she took in their surroundings.

They were granted leave to look around while the servants prepared to set up the welcome feast.

Aemond couldn't take his eyes off the white sand and the crystal blue water. He breathed deeply, relieved to smell nothing but fresh flowers and ocean water and not the filth that permeated King’s Landing.

“Father should take over this place.” Aegon mused, earning looks of disdain from his siblings, which he easily shrugged off. “What? It’s much better than our shithole of a home.”

Aemond rolled his eyes at his brother’s crass nature and kept walking, praying Aegon would somehow get lost or at least get bored of his company and leave.

The sound of a loud laugh caught all of their attention and they walked their way through the lavish gardens to find it. Aemond suddenly became nervous as he saw the children of the Lord and Lady of Ixtal.

The oldest son was playing some sort of ball game with his younger brother. The youngest sibling was reading quietly with her Septa. But the eldest daughter was nowhere to be found.

As they stepped forward, the youngest son straightened and nudged his brother to stop. Catching sight of the young Targaryen princes and princess they let the ball they were playing with drop to the ground as they bowed respectfully.

“Hello.” Helaena spoke brightly and the two young boys were helpless against her sweet nature and they both smiled and greeted her warmly.

“Where’s the other one?” Aegon asked rudely, looking around for the pretty girl from earlier who was missing.

Aemond grit his teeth, praying Aegon wouldn’t drive her away before he even had the chance to speak to her.

“She’s in her tree.”

“Her tree?”

The oldest brother pointed to the enormous willow tree behind them.

He called out to his sister, alerting her to the presence of the royal children and just seconds later, Aemond watched with a slowly growing smile as a lithe form began to descend the ancient tree.

She was slightly out of breath as she jumped the last few feet to the ground, brushing her already tangled hair out of her face as she practically skipped towards them.

As if her Septa’s teachings and her mother’s scolding from that morning had finally caught up to her, the smile on her face fell slightly, remembering she was in the presence of royalty. She slowed her pace and curtsied slightly clumsily as she came before them.

“It is lovely to see you all again. I hope you are enjoying Ixtal.”

Aemond felt his face heat with a deep blush at the sound of her voice, the slight accent he heard capturing him instantly and he wished nothing more than to take the book from her young sister’s hands and demand she read it to him just so he could continue to hear the beautiful sound of her voice.

“Your home is lovely. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Helaena spoke, breaking him from his thoughts. She moved towards the girl, the two of them engaging in easy conversation.

Aegon began speaking with the two brothers, learning the rules to the ball game they were playing, the young boys instantly getting along. Which left Aemond to stand by himself.

He shifted on his feet anxiously, contemplating if he should leave and find his mother. He’d at least have someone to talk to then. The pit in his stomach that grew as the familiar feeling of loneliness settled over him broke abruptly at the sound of the beautiful voice again.

“Would you like to sit?”

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers and for a moment, he wondered if she had actually been speaking to him. His gaze found Helaena who was now kneeling to talk to the youngest of the children who was mesmerized by her lavish dress.

Which left the oldest daughter alone and her gaze on him.

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and stepped forward slowly, his heart racing as he took a seat on the bench next to her.

“What are you writing?” He asked after clearing his throat, wincing to himself at the nerves that lingered in his words.

“Drawing actually.” She corrected. “And not very well by the looks of it.” She shifted closer to him to show him the sketches in her notebook, the scent of lavender invading every one of his senses as her shoulder brushed against his.

His eyes looked over the shaky drawings of flowers and the willow tree she had been sitting in just moments ago.

“They’re beautiful.”

She smiled and the sight was enough to leave Aemond thankful that he was sitting.

“Do you draw?”

“No, nowhere near as well as you.”

“You must be shit then because these are awful.”

Aemond choked on his breath at her words, his wide eyes looking over at her in shock. She had a carelessness to her that he thought he would’ve found arrogant, it was certainly how he felt about the other ladies at court who were so brazen before him.

But he found he could only feel enamored by the girl beside him.

A quiet laugh escaped him, his stomach flipping in ways he had never felt before.

“They’re not so bad.” He spoke quietly, his nerves reverting him to his bashful nature.

“You’re quite the flatterer, Aemond.”

No words came to him, he was left to stare back at her, completely taken aback by her easy nature and blinding smile.

She continued to show him her other sketches, the conversation between them flowing easily, something that Aemond had never experienced.

Later, as their guards escorted them away to prepare for the feast, Aemond’s ears rang with the sound of her laughter, leaving him to hope he would hear it again before he had to leave.

He spent the night with a smile on his face, behaving more animatedly than he had in all his life. Alicent had looked at her second son with barely contained emotion, delighted to see him so at ease.

She was so caught up in her emotions, she hadn’t even noticed how his eyes never strayed too far from the eldest daughter of Ixtal.

The mischievous island girl was known to walk around the halls of the castle at all hours. It had happened so often for so long the guards didn’t bother to stop her anymore and no one batted an eye when they saw her wandering.

She made her way to her parents chamber hours after she had been put to bed.

She couldn’t stop the thought in her head and she had to see it through.

With a smile to the guard at her parent’s door, she strolled in as if it were her own chamber. Her parents looked startled for all of a second before they sighed in resignation.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Darling?”

“I was.”

Her father huffed out a laugh. “So what brings you here, Troublemaker?”

She let out a breath, her shoulders straightening, as if portraying herself as proper would help her cause.

“I want to go with you to King’s Landing.”

Her request did not go over as easily as she wished, she spent the next hour arguing with her parents, pleading her case. She may have overstated how much her decision to learn more about court, but her parents did not need to know her desire lay purely with her need to explore what the Capitol could offer.

Her parents knew she loved to explore and the chance to see a new part of the realm was too tempting to not indulge her in. Her parents loved her more than anything, they loved and doted on all their children in ways that left Lords and Ladies from other houses to scoff and roll their eyes in disdain.

They couldn’t say no to her.

By the next morning, she stood at her father’s side as their ship sailed to King’s Landing, her arm linked through his, her head filled with the wonders of what this new place would have to offer.

A smile grew on her lips as she pictured the shy boy who had complimented her drawings and her excitement began to grow.

She was more reserved than she had ever been as she sat beside the table of royals. King Viserys had planned an extravagant welcome feast for the Lord of Ixtal, his new Master of Coin and his daughter to welcome them to King’s Landing.

She had never experienced so many Lords and Ladies approaching her before, giving her their hand to shake and curtsey before them in greeting. It felt as though she had never truly existed until she made it to the Capitol, where the matters of the court actually held weight and prospect.

Her father had regaled many a knight and Lord over the course of the night, leaving her by his side to sit quietly, the overlooked daughter. She knew the power her house held, she knew the reason most Lords gave their good fortune to her father was to ensure their trade routes would continue prosperously. She knew she was nothing more than fodder at her father’s side.

She picked at her food unhappily, contemplating her decision to venture so far from her home, so far from what was comfortable. Her eyes rose from her plate, surveying the large throne room before her, catching sight of her father in talks with a large group of Lords from around the realm.

With a heavy sigh, knowing she couldn’t interrupt her father, her eyes moved to the head table where the Targaryen family sat.

The head seat where the King sat was empty, he was busy at her father’s side. She let her eyes roam over the queen, taking in her quiet servitude and demure presence. Her gaze fell to the heir, Princess Rhaenyra sat with her husband Laenor Valaryon, her brows quickly rising at the sight of the brown haired children sat beside the silver-headed wedded pair.

Her eyes fell to Queen Alicent’s children, a small smile growing as she caught the gaze of Princess Helaena, the quiet girl sparing her a wave to which she eagerly reciprocated.

She was never one to fade into the background and she eagerly took the Princess’ gesture as a sign of goodwill, standing from her seat to make her way to the head table.

Helaena beamed at the girl as she approached, oblivious to her elder brother’s lustful intrigue and her younger brother who sat up straighter as the girl approached.

“Hello, my Lady, I hope King’s Landing is treating you well.” Helaena greeted the girl happily.

“It is lovely, Princess. I am sincerely grateful to your father for allowing myself and my father to reside in your home.”

“We are delighted to have you.” Helaena assured her. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment, her face turning bashful for a moment. “The ladies of the court will be gathering tomorrow, you should join.”

“I’d love to.” She responded eagerly, relieved to know her newfound solitude would not be long held.

“You should join us for breakfast as well. I can show you my collection.” Helaena added excitedly.

“By the Gods, Helaena.” Aegon groaned beside her.

“Collection?” She asked, staunchly ignoring the prince sitting next to the blushing princess.

“My insects. I’ve collected quite a beautiful group of them. I’d love to show you.”

Helaena had a lovely innocence to her she was powerless against.

“I’d be delighted to see them.” She told the princess sincerely, hoping she had found a friend in the eccentric girl. “I’ve also heard wonderful things about your library. I’m eager to read the works about Valryian history and the Targaryen dynasty. There are only rumors where I come from.”

Aemond sat forward in his seat, his eagerness to interject himself finally coming to a head.

“I can show you to the library.” Aemond offered, finally making his presence known.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to take you from your duties.”

“You won’t.” He insisted, positive his face was blooming with a pink blush as her attention now lay on him. “There are many books that have not been translated, I would be happy to read them to you.”

He seemed to melt under her gaze that watched him curiously.

“You would do that?”

“Of course.” He insisted.

“That would be wonderful.”

He was thankful he was sitting because her smile would have knocked him off his feet.

By the next morning, as soon as the sun rose, he was sitting in the library, anxiously anticipating her arrival. He didn’t have to wait long until the door creaked open and her eager eyes took in the vast shelves around her.

She greeted him with happiness as if they were long time friends, causing his stomach to flutter in ways he had never felt before.

“This is incredible.” She mused, eyeing the many books she had to indulge in.

They spent the afternoon together, her at his side as he read the Valryian texts of their history, stopping every few minutes to answer the many intrigued questions she had.

Aemond was sure his face was on fire, he had never blushed so hard. No one had ever taken such an interest in him, no one had ever paid so much attention to him, no one had ever bothered to listen to him.

But here she was, this girl at his side, eager to know more, asking question after question, trusting him to give her the answer. As soon as he began to fear he had spoken too much, taken too much of her time she’d drawl out ‘tell me more’ or ‘what happened next’ and he was rooted to his seat, turning to the next page as he explained the history of the Targaryen dynasty to her eager ears.

He had never felt so important.

King’s Landing proved to be just as wondrous as she dreamed it. Granted, it didn’t have the luxurious beaches or sprawling forests her home did, but she was just thrilled to be exploring a new corner of the world.

Aemond had quickly become her closest ally. He had taken to showing her every inch of the place he thought she would enjoy, dragging her along to the mazes of gardens, the weirwood tree, the luxurious Sept, but her favorite had to be the library. She had spent many late nights with Aemond at her side, perusing through the many ancient works of Valyrian history.

It fascinated her, but she couldn’t deny she loved to hear Aemond’s voice as he read to her, enthralled with stories of Aegon the Conqueror and his two sister-wives, stories of ancient dragons and their riders, of wars long passed.

A week into their stay, as she broke her fast with her father, she was practically bouncing in her seat, shoveling her food into her mouth as quickly as she could, eager to get the meal over with so she could meet with Aemond and Helaena, the two of them quickly becoming her closest confidants.

“Slow down, my love, you’re going to choke.” Her father warned with a chuckle at her enthusiasm.

“Sorry.” She mumbled through the food in her mouth, causing her father to grimace at her very unlady-like behavior.

“Your eagerness wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Targaryen, would it?” He asked slowly, his knowing smile teasing her clear affection for the young boy she was growing closer to each day.

“Helaena and I are good friends.” She shrugged, effectively dodging her father’s prying. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, watching her thoughtfully. He had no idea where she had gained such a witty mouth, it certainly wasn’t from him or his sweet, quiet wife.

She finished the rest of her breakfast at record speed and hopped out of her seat, pressing a quick kiss to her father’s cheek.

“I’ll see you at dinner!” She called out over her shoulder as she skipped to the door.

“Be safe!” He called out, but she was already racing down the halls. He looked to the guard at the door pointedly who nodded and trailed after the rambunctious girl.

She slowed her pace once she reached the courtyard, suddenly very aware of the many eyes that would be on her if she was caught sprinting through the halls. She spotted a head of silver hair by the gates and she beamed, throwing all care out the window as she began to jog towards him.

“Aemond!” She called out and watched as the boy turned to her, his own smile growing at the sight of her.

“Took you long enough.” He jested playfully and reveled in the dramatic scowl she sent him.

“I’m not late. You are just an insane man that voluntarily wakes with the sun.”

It was so small, something so miniscule, but it still managed to make his heart race. Knowing she remembered a small detail about him, no matter if it was something that was so inconsequential, was something he couldn’t wrap his head around.

He hadn’t expected it to affect him the way it did.

~~~

She found herself with Helaena in the gardens, finding any bugs she could for the enigmatic

princess. Digging a jittery bug out of the dirt, her nose scrunched in distaste as the many legged creature crawled over her hand.

“What is this thing?”

Helaena peered over curiously and a wide smile beamed on her face.

“That’s a beetle.”

“They’re not poisonous, are they?”

The princess laughed in amusement at the widened eyes that met her gaze and she shook her head. “No, you’re safe.”

The girl nodded and, though still on edge, was less stressed as she held the bug in her hands.

Helaena, preoccupied with her own bugs, stole frequent looks at the girl next to her, noting the unease in her eyes. She smiled lightly and leaned in close to her.

“You don’t have to do this with me. I know not everyone likes the things I like. I can do this by myself.”

The girl looked startled by her words, a frown growing on her usually bright features and she looked down at the bug in her hands again, her eyes shifting from a look of disgust to one of determination, as if she could force herself to not feel grossed out at their existence.

“I like being here with you.” She said softly. “I don’t really have anyone else here.”

Helaena frowned, the thought of her brother immediately coming to mind and the smile that would grace his usually sullen face every time he was with the Island girl. As if she had conjured him herself, she looked over her shoulder, noticing him coming their way.

“Hello, Brother.” She smiled, though it was futile as his attention was locked onto the beauty beside her.

“Hello.” He spoke, though his eyes never left his sister’s friend. “What are you doing?”

“Finding bugs. Would you like to join?”

Helaena, having expected a ‘no’, given it was always Aemond’s answer anytime she asked him for help digging through the gardens, was shocked as he took a seat among them and dug his hands in the dirt before them without question.

The Princess watched with barely contained delight as her brother and friend immediately started conversing as if she weren’t there, the comfortable ease between them thriving.

Usually she would feel slighted by such an occurrence, but rather than feeling ignored, she was happy to see her brother, who was usually so serious, look completely unburdened. She worried about him, about how tightly wound he was, but since the Lord of Ixtal and his daughter had come to King’s Landing, she had noticed his demeanor change, as if he could finally take a deep breath and release the things that so often held him down.

Aemond looked at the dirt beneath his fingernails and mourned at what his night routine would be subjected to, but he found he didn’t care all that much. The stolen glances to the girl beside him had all sense of propriety out the window.

“Do you do this every day, Princess?” She asked the Targaryen who shrugged shyly.

“Most days. I find I prefer the company of bugs over people.”

The bark of laughter that left her had both the siblings smiling, her joyful nature contagious.

Aemond was transfixed, until he heard his name and he was forced out of his daydreams. He looked up at Aegon who was standing before them, judgment painting his features.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re digging for bugs, Brother.” Helaena answered innocently, her eyes thankfully locked onto the caterpillar on her finger so she didn’t see how her brother rolled his eyes in disdain.

Aemond glowered at his brother, his mood dampened, his protectiveness for his sister rising involuntarily whenever he was around. He hated seeing Helaena’s eyes dim with every one of his hurtful words.

The Island girl looked between the siblings, beginning to understand just how different they were to her and her own siblings. The more time she spent with Aegon, the more she disliked him. She looked back at Aemond and frowned, noticing the dower expression grow on her friend’s face, and she called his name.

“Hmm?”

“What are these?” She asked, her dirt covered fingers trailing over the petals of the flowers in front of them, diverting his attention from Aegon.

“Marigolds.” He answered quickly, as if he wanted her to be impressed by his knowledge. “You don’t have these in Ixtal?”

“No. It’s a shame, they’re beautiful.”

Aemond bit his lip, his heart racing as she moved back to digging for bugs. He ignored the nerves that coursed through him and reached out to pluck the flower.

“Here.”

She looked up and her eyes widened, her cheeks burning as he tucked the flower behind her ear, his shy smile mirroring hers, his hesitance clear, but his bravery clearer.

Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes at the pair.

The noise caused them both to glare at the older Targaryen, their eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“You two are pathetic.”

“It’s not our fault your pea sized brain cannot comprehend the idea of caring for someone other than yourself.” She snarked easily, making Aemond’s eyes widen as he nervously looked between her and his brother whose face twisted in anger.

Thankfully, his brother was smart enough to know not to start a fight with her and he stomped away, most likely in search of more wine.

“You shouldn’t do that.” Aemond mumbled, his worried eyes lingering on his brother’s figure as he stormed off.

“Do what?”

“Antagonize him.”

“Someone needs to knock him off his high horse. Why can’t it be me?” She shrugged, perfectly content to be the antagonist in Aegon Targaryen’s life.

“Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why would anything happen to me?”

“Because… he’s… it’s Aegon.” He stressed, as if his brother’s existence was enough explanation.

“Yes, and he’s an absolute cock.”

Aemond’s eyes widened, not expecting the vulgar word to leave her lips. Helaena giggled and leaned into the girl at her side. His shoulders slumped and he allowed himself to laugh, amazed yet not surprised at her ability to evade him of his worries.

A body crashed into her as she turned the corner, almost knocking her off balance, but arms that quickly wrapped around her waist stopped her from falling to the floor.

She recognized the boy immediately.

“Aemond.” She greeted breathlessly with a smile. He pulled away from her instantly, taking a step back to create space between them, his head bowed downwards, avoiding her gaze.

But she saw the tear streaks through the stains of ash on his cheeks. Her smile fell and she stepped towards him, her hands gently lifting his chin, though he vehemently refused and harshly pulled himself away from her.

“What happened?” She asked, trying to keep the hurt from her voice at his avoidance, something she had never experienced from him.

“Nothing.”

“Aemond.” She admonished gently. She hated when he acted like this, so unlike the kind boy she knew.

He kept his head down and she sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what happened.”

Aemond huffed and side stepped around her to continue on his way to lock himself in his chambers and wallow, but she was too quick. She grabbed his hand to stop him and pulled him back towards her.

He spoke her name, the groaned pronunciation indicating he wasn’t in the mood.

“I just want to go to my chambers.”

“Fine. We can go together.” She said simply and linked her arm through his as they began to walk.

Aemond let out a long breath, his annoyance flaring for a second, but the moment he looked over at her it faded away into nothing. He brought his arm that was linked with hers closer to his chest, as if needing her touch to soothe his nerves.

He thought he wanted to be alone. After his mother had brushed off his tears and scolded him yet again for venturing through the dragon pit, he just wanted to wallow by himself, but with her arm in his, her steady presence at his side, he found he wanted nothing but to be with her.

Once they made it to his chambers, he reluctantly let go of her and practically slumped his way to sit on his bed, his head bowed down to his feet, his brother and nephews' latest prank ruminating in his head, causing shame and anger to cascade over every inch of him.

“Are you going to tell me what happened now or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

Aemond huffed at her words and began to fidget with his fingers, focusing on the sand that lingered on his skin rather than meeting her inquisitive gaze.

She rolled her eyes and moved to sit next to him on the bed, brushing the sand from his hair.

“Were you in the dragon pit again?”

He nodded wordlessly and she felt something inside her clench. She would never understand the hole in Aemond’s heart, how his lack of a dragon made him feel so worthless.

“They said they found a dragon for me.” He mumbled, causing her to look over at him with concern, her stomach sinking at the hurt she heard in his voice, knowing his dreams hadn’t come true that afternoon.

She knew it could only be a cruel prank at his expense.

“They gave me a pig.”

Her shoulders slumped, her hand reaching out to grab his, intertwining their fingers with an ease as though she had done it a million times before. She had only held his hand a few times and it made Aemond blush bright red every time, even now as he wallowed.

“I’m sorry. They shouldn’t be so cruel to you.”

“They’re right. It’s pathetic, a Targaryen without a dragon.”

“Aemond-”

“Maybe I’m not worthy and I’ll never get a dragon, maybe that’s why my egg never hatched. I don’t deserve it.”

“Stop it.” She spoke sternly, gripping onto both his hands in an effort to calm him down from his ranting. “You are every bit as good as any one of them, dragon or no dragon.”

Aemond sighed shakily and moved his gaze back down to his shoes, feeling as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“What if I never find one?” He asked quietly, as if afraid to speak the possibility out into existence.

“You will. I know you will.” She assured him, though it did little to release him from his sadness. “There are plenty of Targaryens that didn’t claim dragons until later in life.”

Aemond gave her a plain look, to which she just smirked. Serves him right for teaching her about his family history.

“Aemond, we’re young, we still have so much life to live. It’s not over because you don’t have a dragon yet. You have so much time to find what you’ve always wanted.”

The breath that escaped his lips left him feeling lighter, his hand finally gripping hers back, sending a bashful smile her way, hoping it was enough to convey how grateful he was for her.

He didn’t think he could ever find the words to tell her.

“You’d be with me, won’t you? For my first ride?”

“You would want me there?”

“Of course I would.”

She smiled and he was powerless but to return his own. “Then I’ll be there.”

Aemond’s glare was steady on his face, his eyes locked onto the Strong bastard that twirled her around.

How dare he ask her to dance, how dare he touch her, how dare he make her smile.

His disdain for his nephews was clear, they certainly didn’t give him much reason to be cordial, but this was the last straw. Seeing Jacaerys’ hands on her made his blood boil.

Those damned nephews of his had already stolen her away from his side that afternoon. He could only watch helplessly as she played around with the bastards and spoke politely to his half sister Rhaenyra.

He almost resented how sweet his friend was. He loved her kind heart, he just hated when it extended to his elder half sister and her sons who he despised.

He hated when Jacaerys and Lucerys stole her away from his side. It was happening more and more as they became closer. He felt like he was losing her, the more times she spent breaking her fast with his eldest sister and her brood, the more he dreaded every moment away from her.

She was his only friend, the only one he felt truly understood him, or at least made the effort to. Losing her would mean losing the only shred of happiness he’d managed to find for himself.

He averted his gaze from Jace and the Ixtal girl, the sight of both their bright smiles becoming too painful.

“They seem to get along well.” His father mused, prompting Aemond to torturously follow his gaze to the pair yet again.

His heart began to race at the insinuation, at the knowing look in his father’s twinkling eyes.

“Yes, he seems to be quite taken with her.” Rhaenyra noted with a loving smile.

“They’d make a fine match.” His mother added. Aemond looked to his mother, betrayal in his gaze. His mother knew how much his friend meant to him, she knew someone so precious shouldn’t be shackled to a bastard.

He refused to hear another word. His chair screeched loudly against the floor as he abruptly stood and made his way out of the room as if there were no air left for him to breathe. They couldn’t take her away from him, they couldn’t give her to that bastard.

He raced to his chambers, hoping he was quick enough that no passing guards could see the tears forming in his eyes.

By the next day, he found himself in the gardens, his eyes locked onto the open book in his lap as he read and re-read the same sentence over and over, his racing mind not allowing him to focus on the words in front of him.

The dread he had been feeling since the night before had not dissipated in the slightest.

“Aemond!”

His heart leapt within his chest at the sound of her voice. His hopeful eyes looked around the garden before landing on her and a feeling of lead settled within him, bringing him right back down to his dour mood as he noticed Jace and Lucerys beside her.

She motioned for him to join but he just shook his head softly and moved his gaze back down to his book.

He let out a long breath, trying his hardest to ignore the bitterness that grew in his heart, one that was all too familiar from before he met her. He startled slightly as a body slumped next to him. He looked up and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of her looking at him questioningly.

“Why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

She breathed deeply, as if disappointed by his obvious lie. “Why didn’t you join us?”

He shrugged, he couldn’t very well tell her the truth about how he despised his nephews and seeing her with them was like a dagger to the heart, how he feared losing her, his greatest friend.

“I didn’t want to intrude.” He spoke softly.

Her eyes narrowed at his words, her gaze moving to the two Velaryon boys who were talking quietly amongst each other, their curious eyes occasionally drifting to her and Aemond.

She knew there was tension among them, the way they seemed to side with Aegon and play along in the cruel pranks he would play on Aemond always made her stomach twist. She suddenly felt guilty that she had never considered how it would make Aemond feel to be forced in their vicinity after how they treated him.

She turned to her friend and shuffled closer to him.

“You could never intrude.”

Aemond looked over at her, but quickly averted his gaze, finding it just too much to look in her eyes while she sat so close to him.

“You don’t have to stay with me. If you want to be with them, I won’t stop you.” He spoke quietly. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel smothered by him.

“I’d rather be with you.”

Her answer left him using all of his willpower to keep himself from marching directly to his father and demanding a betrothal this instant.

She chose him.

No one had ever chosen him.

She was bored out of her mind. With Aemond and Helaena gone to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral, she was left without her closest confidants, leaving her little to do in their absence. She wished she’d been granted leave to attend the funeral with them, but her father had never met Laena and had been tasked with extra duties while the King was gone, leaving her to stew in her loneliness.

She was curled up on the settee by her bed, her sketchbook in her lap as she scrawled out an attempt at drawing Dreamfyre, to horrible failure.

A soft knock on her door made her lift her head and she sat up straighter when her father entered. The look on his face made her stomach twist, dread falling upon her like a crashing wave.

She got to her feet quickly, feeling unsteady on her now weak legs.

“Darling, there was an… incident on Driftmark.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart racing. “What happened?”

“I wasn’t privy to all the details but all I know is that Aemond has been injured.”

The breath was knocked out of her and at the first sign of her face crumbling into despair, her father crossed the room and held her tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as the first sob broke free.

“Is he alright?”

Her father let out a long breath at her hiccuped words, holding her tightly. He knew his daughter had certain affections for the young boy, but hearing her now made him realize just how deeply she cared for him.

“The Maesters say he has lost an eye.”

A shuddering breath escaped her and she suddenly felt faint. She had no idea how, what could have unfolded, who would dare to do something so barbaric to him.

The next days were spent in agony. She barely left her chambers. Every time her father came to check in on her, he found her sitting by her window, her gaze locked onto the horizon, waiting eagerly for the Targaryen family’s arrival.

On the third day of her lonely torment, she finally spotted it. Dragons on the horizon. She was on her feet in a second and racing down to the courtyard. She was out of breath and disheveled by the time she made it, but her pace only quickened when she saw Helaena with her mother.

She called out to her friend and Helaena let out a breath of relief when she saw her, her arms opening for her as she approached.

Helaena didn’t let many touch her, but she was one of the lucky few she allowed.

“Are you alright? Where’s Aemond? Will he be ok?” She fired off questions, not even able to get a breath out through her frantic words.

“It’s alright, my Darling. Aemond will be fine.” Alicent consoled her, placing her arm around the shaking girl’s shoulders.

“Where is he?”

“He’s been taken to the Maester’s solar. He’ll have to spend some time there while he heals.”

“What happened?” She asked breathlessly.

“What I told him.” Helaena interjected calmly. “He gained a dragon, but he had to close an eye.”

She looked at Helaena with shock. “He… he claimed a dragon?”

She couldn’t make sense of the despair, relief and joy she had felt all at once. Knowing Aemond and his endless plight to gain a dragon, she knew he would see it a worthy trade, but the thought of him injured, permanently maimed, made her want to crumble to the ground below her.

After bidding goodbye to Alicent and Helaena, she made her way to the Maester’s wing of the Keep. She was denied entry, but she was determined to not let it stop her. Each day, at the crack of dawn, she’d drag herself out of bed and, before even breaking her fast, would make the trek to the Maester’s wing and ask to see Aemond.

She was refused each and every day, but it did little to deter her. She kept trying.

It had been weeks since she had seen Aemond. Her heart was aching without the presence of her best friend, without the boy that made her smile like no other could.

On the fifth day of the third week, as she made the familiar walk to his door, the guard stopped her, as usual, though his words were different.

“The Prince does not wish for any visitors.”

She frowned. It always used to be the order of the Maesters or Alicent, claiming her son needed his rest, but now it was Aemond himself refusing her.

She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but she knew she had felt her heart crack in a way she had never felt before.

She walked away from the door with her head bowed in defeat.

The hurt she felt mirrored Aemond’s own. Refusing her made him ache, but the thought of her seeing him as he was and looking at him with disgust was unfathomable and he would delay that inevitable despair as long as he could.

He sulked in his bed, the dour expression on his face one that had been constant for weeks.

His mother was by his bedside as she had been for weeks. He couldn’t stand to see her wince or her teary eyes everytime she looked at his ghastly scar.

She had been trying, in no subtle terms, to get him out of the room, even going as far to bring up his friend, the one he longed to see yet dreaded ever seeing the same look on his mother’s face on hers.

“It’s been a few weeks. She’s been worrying herself sick.” His mother told him, making his already weak heart more fragile.

He stayed silent, his frown deepening in despair.

“Aegon and Helaena will be heading out tomorrow to Ixtal. You should take Vhagar and join them.”

Aemond shifted uncomfortably. He knew his friend was leaving tomorrow, to visit home for her mother’s name day. They had all been invited, but with his father’s fading health and his mother’s refusal to ride on dragonback, it left just Aegon and Helaena to join the festivities.

“Aemond.” His mother prompted again, the disappointment in her voice clear.

“I don’t want to go.” He mumbled, one of the few sentences he’d managed over the past few weeks.

His mother sighed in defeat and didn’t bring it up again for the rest of the night, leaving him to his solitude as he preferred.

The next morning, Aemond lay in bed, the wound over his eye itching gratingly. He longed to claw at the wicked scar, to scream in anger, to enact his vengeance on that Strong bastard. The fury festered in him like the open wound on his face, red and flaming.

The soft sound of his door opening and closing made him stir, assuming it was his mother yet again. As he lazily turned his head, dread settled in his stomach, his remaining eye widening in horror at the sight of her, the one he longed for yet resisted.

She froze in her place at the door, her jaw falling slack, a shaking hand covering her mouth as a hitched breath escaped her at the sight of him.

Aemond’s face twisted in agony. This was exactly what he wished to avoid.

“What are you doing here?” He asked angrily, tears forming in his remaining eye.

“I just wanted- I wanted… we’re leaving soon.”

It was faint but he heard it. Fear. The stuttering of her words, the quiet, almost docile way she spoke that was so unlike her was like a hatchet to his heart. The look on her face was even worse. She could barely make eye contact with him.

“Get out.” He spoke lowly through gritted teeth.

“Aemond, I-”

“Get out! I don’t want you here!” He screamed at her, tears steadily falling down his cheeks.

Her own tears began to fall, her face twisting with agony. He hated it. He didn’t want her pity, he didn’t want to see the disgust on her face that everyone would face him with for the rest of his life.

“Leave me alone! I never want to see you again!”

She let out a sob and turned on her heel, leaving the room with haste.

Aemond slumped back in bed, placing his hands over his face, ignoring the way it made his eye ache, and he cried for what he had lost.

Not just his eye, but his love, his happiness. His everything.

She stood on the balcony of the banquet hall, breathing in the fresh ocean air. She missed home. She had thought of this moment for weeks, had been eager and excited to finally visit, yet now that she was there, it was bittersweet.

The sound of the waves weren’t as peaceful as she remembered. The food she ate wasn’t as delicious as she remembered. The music and the dancing wasn’t as exciting as she remembered.

“Darling?”

She turned to see her mother approaching, concern written across her face as she moved to stand next to her daughter, her arm crossing over her shoulders, bringing her in close to her side.

“Are you alright? I thought I’d see you dancing all night.”

“I’m fine.”

The Lady of Ixtal looked to her once vibrant daughter worriedly. She was far from the girl that had left all those months ago. From all the letters she had sent, it seemed her daughter was having the time of her life in King’s Landing. The girl she saw now wasn’t the one who had gleaned nothing but happiness.

“Was it not what you expected?”

She stiffened, the need to defend her friends and her new found home rising. “No, it’s- King’s Landing is lovely.”

Her mother sighed. She had gotten a short re-telling of the last few weeks in the Capitol from her husband and she was starting to put the pieces together.

“I couldn’t help but notice your friend isn’t here.”

She looked up at her mother, her wide doe-like eyes giving everything away.

“Aemond?”

She felt her cheeks heat and she turned her attention back to the view before her, focusing on the waves of the ocean, mirroring her breathing with each crashing wave.

“He’s not my friend anymore.” She spoke quietly through the lump that grew in her throat.

“From what I’ve heard, it sounds as though he is going through an awful time, something no one, especially someone so young, should ever have to endure. People don’t exactly act rationally when they are hurt. It is easy to speak things that are untrue in that state.”

She stayed silent, taking in her mother’s words thoughtfully. It was easy enough to explain, but it didn’t lessen the hurt she felt.

“You can stay here if you wish. The Gods know I would love to keep you in my arms, but I don’t think that is truly what you want.”

She let out a shaking breath, her mind a mess as she thought of her life in King’s Landing, of what she’d be leaving behind. But, if Aemond was being truthful and he didn’t want to see her or be her friend anymore, what would her life be like there?

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Her mother assured her. “Or else we’ll have a dragon landing on our shores demanding you come back.”

The smile on her mother’s face made the hurt inside her melt away slightly. Her conviction that Aemond would forgive her for her intrusion, that he would bring her back into his life and his arms made her hopeful.

Her mother was never wrong and she prayed she wouldn’t start now.

She clutched onto Helaena’s waist as they flew on Dreamfyre back to King’s Landing. No matter how thrilling it was to ride a dragon, no matter that she felt as light as a feather, that she could touch the clouds and feel as though she was in a magical, untouchable realm, it felt wrong.

Her first ride shouldn’t have belonged to Helaena, it shouldn’t have been with Dreamfyre. It wasn’t what she promised.

As they dismounted, Helaena’s hand held hers and stayed, holding tightly as they made their way from the dragonpit to the Keep, as if knowing her friend needed the comfort.

As they parted, Helaena promised she’d spend the day with her tomorrow, knowing she needed the distraction from Aemond.

She smiled, though it wasn’t as bright as usual, and with a wave, they parted. She stepped into her chambers and sighed heavily, mourning what her time in King’s Landing would hold.

She moved to her bed, content to hide under the covers for the rest of the day, but she stopped, noticing a bundle of flowers on her desk. She frowned, she certainly hadn’t put them there before she left.

She stepped closer, her fingers gently tracing along the soft petals. They were perfectly bloomed and freshly plucked, most likely just placed on her desk mere minutes before she arrived.

It suddenly struck her.

They were marigolds.

She remembered the flower Aemond had tucked behind her ear, the ones he would bring her on occasion simply because he knew she was fond of them.

Her heart began to race, her stomach flipping at the merest notion that it could’ve been from her best friend. She picked up the bundle, inhaling their fresh scent with a small smile.

She noticed the slip of parchment below them, the simple words in familiar handwriting brought tears to her eyes.

I am deeply, truly sorry.

I didn’t mean a word of what I said

Please forgive me

- Your Aemond

Her breath hitched, her chest feeling tight with sorrow.

The words he had screamed at her that day hurt her deeply, yet the thought of not having Aemond by her side, not having him as her friend, was unfathomable.

She spent the remainder of the day in her chambers, picking sparsely at the food her father had sent to her, knowing she wanted her solitude. By the next morning, having thought of nothing but Aemond all night, she was determined to see the end of their rift.

She dressed quickly and stepped out of her chambers, determined to march her way straight to Aemond, but she was stopped by her guard.

“The Prince has requested your presence in the gardens.”

The crease in her brow that signaled her determination smoothed out, leaving nothing but hopeful nervousness as she quickly made her way through the halls of the Keep. She ignored the looks of disdain from the ladies of the court as she raced past them, ignoring the whispers of her undignified behavior.

They were the last things on her mind.

Her heart was racing within her chest as she approached the gardens. She walked the familiar path, one she had taken countless times, to get to their usual meeting spot. Her feet came to an abrupt stop as she turned the last corner and saw him sitting on their bench, the one they always congregated to over the months together.

Nervous butterflies fluttered within her as she approached him.

She called out to him softly, cursing herself for how her voice shook in hopeful anticipation.

Aemond turned to face her and she was shocked to see the eyepatch across his face, covering the angry looking wound she had seen that morning in his chambers.

Her heart ached at the sight of the red scar that peeked out from the patch. It looked painful and the reminder of what he had gone through, what his own nephew had inflicted on him made her want to cry.

He spoke her name in greeting, giving her a small, weak smile. He winced slightly, the pull of his cheeks causing his scar to flair with pain.

Her chest tightened at the sight of him. He seemed smaller, as if he sat hunched over, trying hard not to take up too much space in the world.

“I’m sorry.” She blurted out before he could speak. He looked up at her incredulously, his stomach twisting at the despair he saw on her face. “I shouldn’t have just barged into your chambers. I knew you wanted privacy and I ignored your wishes and I’m sorry. I never meant-”

Aemond spoke her name breathlessly, stopping her rambling apology. He had never seen her so frantic before, it was unnerving to him, nothing at all like the lively girl he was used to. And it was his fault.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He told her softly. He looked down at his hands that fidgeted in his lap, shame overcoming him as he thought back to that day, when he had yelled at her so callously. He had replayed that moment over and over again in his head for days and it was torturous each time.

He couldn’t get the sight of her tears out of his head. To know he was the cause was his greatest shame.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke earnestly, looking her in the eyes intently, hoping she would believe him. “I never should have spoken to you that way. I’m so sorry I made you cry. I never will again, I promise.”

She let out a long breath, his words stirring something inside her she couldn’t recognize.

He frowned deeply at her lack of reaction, shuffling over and patted the space next to him on the bench, motioning for her to take a seat beside him.

She moved slowly, hesitantly taking her seat next to him.

“I’ve never seen you that angry before.” She spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper as she recalled that dreadful day.

Aemond sighed and bowed his head.

“I…” He started but soon found he had no words, no excuses for how he had treated her. Nothing would ever make it ok, never to her. “I hated to see you look at me like that.” Was the only thing he could think to say.

“Like what?”

“Like you were horrified of me.”

“I was horrified.” She said and he felt his insides turn to stone, his throat tightening with emotion. “But not of you. Never of you.” She added quickly, causing him to look over at her, his eye wide and shining with unshed tears.

“But-”

“Aemond, the thought of what happened to you, the thought of you in pain… it hurts me.”

The vice around his heart lifted instantly. His mind was spinning with the insinuation of her words.

“You… you’re not-”

She reached out, taking his hand in hers, causing words to fail him.

“I could never be afraid of you. I could never feel disgusted by you, I could never think any less of you, or whatever other horrible thing you think I feel for you now. No scar will change how I care for you.”

The weight that had been suffocating him for weeks now seemed to lift just the slightest, allowing him to feel as though he could finally take a breath.

He let out a shaking breath and tightened his hand in hers. She smiled softly and leaned in closer to his side, letting her head fall to his shoulder, letting him revel in her closeness.

He hated the stares he got from the ladies at court, he hated the winces, the horrified gasps as he passed them. He hated the worried looks he received, as if he was seconds away from collapsing like a weak mannered child.

But none of it mattered.

She still cared for him, she was still by his side, her hand in his.

Even the burning fury he held for his nephew seemed dim in the wake of the pure delight he felt in her presence.

“But, if you ever raise your voice to me like that again I will smack you.”

Her threat, that held no anger in the slightest, made him laugh and duck his head against hers as his body shook with each breath of laughter.

His first laugh since the incident.

From then, they were closer than ever. One was seldom seen without the other at their side.

The Ladies at court through the two of them were just about the most darling thing they had ever seen. Yet, not everyone was rooting for the threads of young love to flourish.

Alicent watched her son in the training yard with a frown. Her second son, so dutiful and so smart, was becoming distracted. Her eyes never strayed from him as he neglected his own lessons to play around with his friend, watching with a scowl as the two of them laughed together, as if there was no care in the world.

The sight of the young girl in the training yard was enough to leave her appalled, but her son’s willingness to indulge in such unseemly behavior was worrying.

“We cannot let this go any further.” Her father spoke from beside her.

“I can’t very well tell him he cannot be her friend. It would devastate him.”

“Let them be friends, but make it clear that is all it will ever be. Aemond can’t get any ideas about marrying this girl.”

Alicent chewed on her lower lip anxiously. The thought of tearing her son away from such happiness turned her stomach, but the thought of him marrying a girl so unpredictable was just as unfortunate.

“Would it really be so bad? We could gain leverage with her father.”

“Ixtal is a neutral house. They have never taken a stand in any war, that won’t change now. We cannot risk Aemond allying with a house that could not give us leverage for Aegon’s claim.” Otto hissed angrily.

Alicent wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes falling back to her son, taking in the sight of his smile while she still could. She doubted it would be a common sight once he was forced away from the Island girl.

But they all had a duty to perform.

Her arm was looped through his as he guided her past the dragon pit.

“Where are we going?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at the structure that housed the mighty Targaryen dragons they had just passed.

“Vhagar doesn’t stay there. She doesn’t fit.” Aemond explained, a slightly smug smirk crossing his features as he subtly boasted about his newly claimed dragon.

Her smile twitched slightly, her nerves suddenly overtaking her. She’d been hesitant when Aemond offered to introduce her to his mount, but the reminder of the great beast’s sheer size had the beginnings of fear creeping through her veins.

Noticing the subtle shift in her expression, Aemond tightened his grip on her arm.

“I would never put you in danger.” He assured her. “Vhagar is bonded to me, she can feel what I feel for you and she would never hurt you.”

“If I could hear that directly from Vhagar I might be able to breathe properly.”

Aemond snickered and led her forward excitedly.

Soon, they arrived at the crest of the hill, Vhagar’s enormous form coming into view. A shuddering breath escaped her when she came face to face with the historic dragon that fought in wars long before her time.

She could barely comprehend such a beast of her size existed among them, that the sweet boy beside her commanded her or even willingly approached her.

“Relax.” Aemond told her softly, moving out of her hold so his hand could take hers, intertwining their fingers.

The pair of them stepped towards the sleeping giant. She watched, mystified, as Aemond spoke a few words of Valaryian, the dragon's eyes sleepily opening, her large head lifting towards them.

She felt her body freeze, the blood in her veins running cold as the mighty dragon looked past her rider, her curious gaze landing on her. A low rumble shook the ground, Vhagar’s protest to the stranger before her.

Aemond soothed his dragon, placing an affectionate hand on her snout as he spoke soft commands.

She doubted a few measly words would suddenly convince Vhagar that she wasn’t a tasty snack, but she could only watch, her eyes widening as the dragon became disinterested by her presence, laying her head back down on the warm grass she had been slumbering on.

Aemond looked over his shoulder at her prone form several feet back and smiled, motioning her to come closer.

She shook her head adamantly, her feet frozen in place.

He spoke her name, holding his hand out to her.

She looked to his hand and then to his dragon and back again, contemplating the risk to her life.

“Do you trust me?” Aemond asked and her tense shoulders sagged. She had no reason to doubt her best friend. With one look in his eye, she knew he would never let any harm come to her.

She took slow steps forward, her fear not allowing her to move any quicker.

She reached out and took Aemond’s hand in hers as soon as she was close enough, holding on tightly.

“It’s alright.” He assured her.

He guided her hand toward Vhagar, watching the girl beside him closely, gaging every expression that crossed her face in a matter of seconds. From fear, to doubt, to disbelief and suddenly to awe.

A shaky laugh left her lips as her hand softly rested on the rough scales of Vhagar’s side. Pure delight was etched across her face as she pet the mighty beast as if she were nothing more than a house cat. Aemond saw how excited she got when one of the many stray cats that roamed Flea Bottom ventured their way into the Keep.

The excited smile she wore now as she pet his dragon was the same one he saw when she would cradle those strays.

The thought made him laugh and he leaned in close to her, letting his head rest against hers.

Seeing her now, fearless by his mount’s side, only confirmed what he already knew.

She was meant to be with dragons. Meant to be with him.

I will hopefully have the next chapter out within the next couple of days! And yes, every chapter is going to be long, I have no control. Hope you liked it xx

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